


Long Time Coming

by JauntyHako



Series: Post Season 5 AU [9]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: In which a deadly plague solves war, John Sheppard being a little hot for a wraith, M/M, Space zombies, The Genii are in this too, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27033412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JauntyHako/pseuds/JauntyHako
Summary: Atlantis faces the dead rising and suspect Todd may be at the center of the unfolding mystery.Can be read independently of the other entries in the series.
Relationships: John Sheppard/Todd the Wraith
Series: Post Season 5 AU [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/501760
Comments: 24
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The existence of this fic is to be solely blamed on the folks who kept writing nice comments on old fics. 
> 
> Years after the author stopped writing for that series and the fandom.  
> That's what you get. More fics.

The Ancients had seeded a multitude of planets with life, creating ecosystems capable of sustaining human populations all across the Milky Way and Pegasus Galaxy. It should not be surprising that many looked so much like home John kept expecting his brother to jump out from behind a tree daring him to eat the chunk of meat he'd sworn was not raw squirrel. Seven year old John had believed him and been sick for days.   
Millions of lightyears away and part of him was still walking through his own backyard.

“I'm just saying,” he said as they made their way across the forest path towards a settlement Teyla knew. “If you didn't want to get shown up, you should have known better than to take Cadman up on jiu-jitsu lessons.”  
“I trusted her,” Rodney protested. “She said she still owed me for. You know.”  
“Kissing Beckett,” John supplied.  
“I told you that wasn't me, it was _her_ , she only happened to be in my body. You know what, not the point. The point is, I acted out of a genuine desire to improve myself and Cadman filmed me and passed the video around and there has to be some kind of rule against this. My sister saw it, do you have any idea what kind of ammunition this is giving her?”  
John shrugged.  
“Way of the world, buddy- hold on.”  
By the time he raised his rifle the others had already fallen into defensive positions. Teyla to his left, Rodney to his right, the soft snarling of Todd at his back, low enough to let John hear what he was listening for.  
“What? What is it?”  
This was not.  
“Shh, Rodney, listen.”  
John crept forward, steps muffled on the forest floor, the bird song there and not quite familiar. Then, again, and this time the rest of the team heard it, too. Cracking and splintering wood and above that something John had at first attributed to harsh wind until he felt for a breeze and felt none.   
He urged his team on, breaking into a run through the copse of trees.

The heat hit him first. Like standing in front of an open oven door, hot wind swept over his face, smells of pine and ash dissonant against the scene of destruction before them.   
The village burned, houses collapsed as they watched, wooden beams turned to ash, thatched roofs went up in flames, casting columns of smoke into the air.   
“Search for survivors,” John called out, pointing his team in each direction. “Don't go into the buildings unless you have to!”  
They spread out but John knew right away the chances of finding survivors were slim. No one had attempted to control the fire, no people were gathered outside. Still he went as close to each house as he dared, to search for anyone who might not be able to call for help. Something heavy collapsed further into the village and he heard Teyla curse, but since he heard no shouts of pain but plenty of colourful cursing afterwards he moved on in the opposite direction, checking window after door after collapsed wall for any way into the buildings and a reason to risk it. 

The further he went the more he realised it wasn't quite as bad as he'd feared. The fire must have broken out relatively recently, only a handful of buildings at the edge of the village had caught fire.  
He moved onto the places that hadn't caught on fire yet, found no people but questions instead.   
In one place he could barely open the door, shoved it open with force only to nearly stumble over heaps of paintings on the floors and propped against the walls. In the middle of the room he found an easel, the paint still drying and shining slick against the sunlight falling through the windows. The canvas itself was about an inch thicker than it should have been. Someone had painted over their previous works again and again, not even bothering to scrape it clean or wait for it to dry. John touched it and whole chunks of paint came loose.

Rodney and Teyla were already waiting when he arrived at the town square. It became abundantly clear that there was no one to care if the whole place went up in flames.  
“Something weird is going on here,” Rodney said. “Passed a bakery, the whole thing was overflowing with bread, it was shoved into every crevice, gathering mold.”  
He shuddered.  
John told them of the house with all the paintings he found.  
“I have come upon similar sites. Someone attempted to repave the entire main road. There was one set of tools only. But I found no one alive,” Teyla said, casting a sweeping look over the nearby houses. All were empty, doors and windows open.   
“That's strange. Place doesn't look abandoned. Wait, where's Todd?”  
A scream gave him the answer. 

They hurried to its source, past some as of yet untouched buildings into a tavern in which Todd stood looming over a shivering heap on the floor.   
He looked up as the team entered and only gave the shrug of a wraith who really couldn't be blamed for the effect he had on people.  
“I have not touched her,” he said raising his hands for good measure. John still went to check on the human who had come out of her defensive posture enough to watch the exchange.  
“You're alive,” she said, her voice raspy from smoke, and then her eyes widened in recognition. She looked young, in her late teens or early twenties. A small lump grew at her temple, which John politely tried not to stare at. “Wait, I recognise you. You're the people from the Ancient city. The ones with the tame wraith.”  
Todd snarled and she shrank back, but he backed off when John shot him a warning look.   
“Where are the other survivors?” Teyla asked, offering her hand to the woman. She shook her head, scrambled backwards in her haste to get away.  
“Stay away, I have it too. Don't come closer.”  
“Have what?” Rodney started looking worried, checking to see if anything of his touched anything in the room. “And what's with the fire? Shouldn't there be a, I don't know, volunteer fire brigade or something?”  
“I laid it. It was the only way – they wouldn't – I-”  
“Calm down.” John knelt in front of her a small distance away to not set her off. “Take a breath. What happened here?”  
The woman did as he said and breathed deeply. She was still shaking but when she spoke next her voice was steady.  
“We had just celebrated my granddaughter's betrothal when the first fell ill ... soon the whole village had it.”  
“Had what? Seriously, is this a biohazard thing?”  
The woman kept going as if she hadn't heard Rodney.  
“I watched my son and granddaughter die over there in the hospital. Our doctors tried to save them but they were the first to be infected. People were dying faster than we could bury them and then ... only I was left.”  
She choked back a sob. John reached out to touch her but she crawled backwards, almost hit her head on the wall. He drew back, shifted his weight around, helpless to her sorrow.  
“That why you laid the fire? You were trying to burn the bodies?”  
“Sheppard.”  
“No, not bodies. They, oh spirits, the earth shifted, they won't-”  
“ _Sheppard_.”  
“What?”  
Todd pointed out the window. And at a person burning alive standing just outside.

For the fraction of a second John didn't know what to do with the image. Whoever it was was burned beyond recognition but did not look to be in any pain, simply stood and peered through the window as if trying to make out their shapes. Their eyes met, and then the person, if it could be called that, shrieked and threw themselves at the window.  
“Shit!” John jumped to his feet, rifle raised as more and more of the burning people appeared next to the first one, flickering like fata morganas in the light of the fire on their skin. Todd slammed the door shut just as the first began throwing themselves against it. Wood rattled in its hinges.  
“Up! Up!” John pushed his people towards the stairs, figuring a jump from a one story window was less damaging than being burned alive by whatever these things were. Rodney was first, Teyla followed after, Todd behind her. He called out to the woman in the corner.  
“Come on, we're getting you out of here!”  
She shook her head wildly.  
“No, no, I have it too, there is nothing-”  
And then she died. One second she was alive, the next she listed to the side, mouth still open in a sentence she would not finish. John swallowed, wished he could check and make sure, but if she really had some kind of disease, getting close was the last thing he should be doing. With one last look at her, he turned around and followed his people up the stairs. 

He arrived at the first floor landing just in time to hear the door downstairs break down. Within seconds the heat of fire rose up through the floors. Teyla wrenched open a window with Todd's help, while Rodney muttered to himself in that half stressed half panicked sing song that he did.  
“First space vampires, now it's space zombies? This is ridiculous.”  
John didn't deign that with an answer, mostly because he was too busy assessing the dozens of people who had surrounded the building, clad in white hospital gowns and burning bright like a reverse Ku Klux Klan.  
“I volunteer McKay to jump first,” Todd said.  
“Ha ha.”   
“We can climb to the next balcony,” Teyla added and proved her point by vaulting out the window and bridging the gap between buildings to the next balcony over. John urged Rodney along but Todd was still faster, pushing off the roof into what would have been the graceful leap of an apex predator if his coat hadn't gotten in the way. He yelped like a surprised cat and caught himself on the other side, pulling himself up so quickly if John hadn't paid attention he might not have noticed the little mishap.   
But he had and Todd knew it too from the glares he kept throwing him. Rodney jumped over as well, almost as elegant as Todd just had and John followed after, dashing along the balcony with enough breath and a self-satisfied grin to spare to say: “Told you that coat was impractical.”  
“Keep moving,” Todd snarled. 

They leaped to another roof and from there into a side alley, just barely avoiding the burning creatures running at them at full speed. John measured his chances of escape by the heat burning at his back. He didn't know how many were behind him, just that the way to the gate was too long to make it at a full sprint. Cursing under his breath he whipped around and laid a barrage of bullets into the oncoming horde. People dropped, then as John watched got back up again, barely slowed down by enough force to fell a wraith.   
“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” John turned again, running as fast as he could, pushing his team to do the same.

The gate came into view with the hairs at his neck burning up, the creatures close enough to touch. Todd had gotten there first and dialed Atlantis, inputting his IDC. Teyla rushed past him and through the gate, then Rodney. John and Todd were head to head when something pulled him back.   
He yelped, thrown backwards, hands looking for his rifle even as he flew through the air. Fire burned above him, the face of what must have once been a human being grimacing at him, bare bone showing through the melting skin. An energy blast sent it flying and then Todd was there, pulling him up by the shoulder and all but throwing him through the gate, their pursuers at their heels.

They stumbled into Atlantis' gateroom together, Rodney shouting to close the Iris but one of the burning people still made it through all but stuck to John as he scrambled backwards, pumping his entire magazine into it, Todd doing the same with his weapon. The creature sagged, stumbled and finally fell at John's feet. A team of marines secured the gateroom, weapons trained on the burning body, the telltale shuffle of Woolsey's feet alerting John that they had made it.   
They were home, safe and sound.

“What on Earth happened?”   
Woolsey stared at the thing at John's feet like it had clogged his toilet.   
Space zombies, John did not say, because that would have been ridiculous and most zombies he'd seen in movies didn't sprint at you full speed with unknown motives.   
“Could be a bad Halloween joke,” he said instead. “But we should probably dissect our friend here, just to make sure.”  
“I do not believe that will be possible,” Todd said as he helped John up.   
“What? Why?” He looked down at the creature. Which began moving, arms and legs twitching. “Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me.”  
Rodney who must have gone away while he wasn't looking, returned with a fire extinguisher, which solved at least one of their problems. They put the thing, which John adamantly refused to call a zombie, out and herded it with a mix of weapons fire and threats towards one of the holding cells. 

They passed Jeannie and Madison who had quite possibly picked the worst weekend to visit Rodney.   
Jeannie swallowed a scream at the sight of the creature, but Madison gasped with positive excitement.  
“Hello! Are you an alien, too?”  
If only, John thought, but Jeannie was nodding at them insistently, which he took to mean that he had better not tell a seven year old they had just escaped an entire village of people who didn't seem to give a shit about burning alive and were possibly, maybe, in the business of eating their brains.   
“Uh, no, that's for, uh ...”  
“A stage production!” Rodney fell in, too proud over a lie that, overall, wasn't very good.   
Madison seemed to believe it, though, since her excitement was immediately replaced by boredom.   
“Ugh, theater,” she said with as much contempt as a child could muster and let herself be ushered away by her mother, who kept looking worriedly over her shoulder.   
Once inside the holding cell, the creature pushed against all four walls but once it realised it was trapped it seemed to give up, instead swaying back and forth, tearing at its burned and now foam covered clothes. They had all but a few seconds to watch it and form some kind of response to today's events, when Woolsey's voice came in over the radio.  
“Sheppard, you and your team better get back here.”

Major Teldy's team stumbled through the gate just as John and his people arrived in the gateroom. Teldy barked orders, firing through the gate, one arm slung around one of her team members. The Iris closed, several light flashes indicated someone was coming up against it from the other side.   
The wormhole closed, but Teldy had barely gotten her team to the medics when it dialed in again, this time with Lorne's IDC. 

All of them reported the same story. People dying of a strange disease, dropping dead where they stood without warning, then getting up and walking again. Not all were aggressive, Lorne's and Edison's teams reported their plague victims wandering around aimlessly, but Teldy's team had gotten the worst of it. Two of her people were currently being stitched up by Beckett and Keller.  
“They used weapons,” Major Keldy said. “We saw them shambling around and didn't figure there was much left up there-” She pointed at her temple. “So we approached. Stupid mistake, they began firing on us as soon as we entered their range. Booked it back to the gate after that, and here we are.”  
“We met a Genii patrol while investigating M9L-455. They know something's happening,” Lorne added. “Asked if we could help, I told them we'd see what we could do, but not to hold their breath.”  
“Hm,” Woolsey made, worriedly leafing through the set protocol for this kind of situation. “You're confident this is a disease?”  
“Pretty sure,” John said. “The survivor we found kept repeating that she had it too. Apparently their doctors tried to help. Didn't work out so well for them.”  
The survivor who had looked like she could have been his daughter but claimed to have gotten it at her granddaughter's betrothal. Beckett had been particularly interested in that part of their report.  
“Then we need to quarantine Atlantis. No contact with earth for the forseeable future, not even over midway. We should also limit excursions to other planets until we know how this thing spreads.”  
Most of the people in the room had counted on this. Rodney was the only one who groaned.  
“Great,” he said with a long suffering sigh. “Jeannie's gonna love this.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I can't dissect a person that's not dead.”  
Immutable logic right there.  
John hopped up on the table, one ear on the conversation unfolding around him, while he read the reports of the other exploration teams again. By now he knew them by heart, but he kept going through them anyway, hoping against hope he'd missed something that explained all this.  
Over the last twelve hours all fifteen reconnaissance teams had reported in with reports of this strange plague spreading on every world they'd visited. People who'd been healthy just days earlier died seemingly without warning only to get back up again minutes later. The next phase was obviously to start taking samples and figure out how this disease was transmitted, how to protect against it, and how to cure it. 

Unfortunately their one and only test subject at the moment showed minimal desire to cooperate.  
“Can you safely perform your tests without the, uh, victim being stunned?”  
They had tried that. Even called Ronon back from his ship to borrow his stunner when the wraith one wouldn't work.   
“I don't know about safely,” Beckett said, but he was already getting into his hazmat suit so any resistance he put up was a token one. “But I don't see another option. Lieutenant Donovan is leading a team right now to take blood samples from the population on M49-37X, but there are some things that just can't be done in the field. I'd like to do an EEG to measure the patient's brain activity, it will be our best bet to see if we're really dealing with the living dead.”  
Beckett smiled uncertainly, as if the strangeness of the situation was not lost on him.   
Silence fell and John noticed only after several too long seconds that it was directed at him. He looked up at Beckett and Woolsey nodding at him expectantly.   
“Hey, I don't know how to do an EEG.”  
“Nonetheless I'd appreciate your assistance,” Beckett said, not unkindly. John got it. If he was about to stick electrodes on a zombie, he'd like some backup too.

Todd was there to watch and possibly laught at their attempt. The forcefield lowered to let Beckett and him through, then rose up behind them. John shot a quick look over his shoulder. Even after months of being on the same team, coming to something as close to friendship as he ever got, seeing Todd on the other side of that cage was still bizarre.   
The plague victim inside had not moved. It sat crouched in the corner, pressing its knees and hands against the forcefield, irrespective of the pain John knew these things caused. Scoops of the fire extinguisher foam still hung from its clothes in stark contrast to the burned skin. It didn't appear to have noticed them.

On some level John knew he had a human being in front of him. That just a few days ago this had been a person who got up in the morning, worked, maybe raised children, fell in love. That they had died, watching their friends and loved ones succumb to the same illness. Maybe they had been afraid.   
John tightened his grip around his rifle, air he rationally knew he had ample of running thin inside the hazmat suit. They knew the plague victims stayed down for a little while after being, for lack of a better term, killed. He couldn't afford to empathise with this thing if he was to keep Beckett safe.   
“We'd like to perform some tests on you, dear,” Beckett said, who did empathise with everyone.   
The second he had spoken the plague victim shot up. A scratching sound tore itself from its throat as it lunged at Beckett.  
John fired.  
Three volleys of bullets hit it directly in the chest, but all it did was to divert its attention. It stumbled backwards, momentarily thrown, bloodshot eyes twisting wildly until they settled on John.   
“Do the damn test!”  
He went down, the plague victim above him, tearing at his shoulders. John brought his arms up, sent a quick prayer up to whoever was listening that the suit would hold. Blood rushed in his ears, almost drowning out the retching hacking noises coming out of the creature's throat. Beckett did something above him, trying to pull a tight rubber cap over a head that was swinging wildly back and forth, trying to headbutt John while he in turn did his damnedest not to let that happen. Beckett put his entire weight into the plague victim and therefore into John who was really wishing he didn't have to wear the damn suit right about now. Even if it meant getting spat at by a pseudo-zombie with an almost certainly infectious disease.   
He pushed back, misjudged its strength and suddenly his arms went akimbo, pushed aside with superhuman strength. Its hands looked more like claws by the second, John scrambled to get a hold of his rifle, the creature swiped at his face cover and was lifted into the air.  
“Watch the wires!”

Todd stood above him, the creature kicking into the air trying to get to John until it realised it had a new enemy and clawed at Todd, shrieking wildly. Todd should have been able to bear the attack, John had seen him perform feats of endurance beyond his wildest dreams. Instead the creature broke his arm.  
Todd grunted, let go for the briefest moment. Enough for the creature to get its legs under itself and throw its full weight against the wraith. John jumped and pulled at what he'd thought was its clothes but turned out to be a strip of leathery skin, ripping off with a sound that had his mouth fill with bile. But it served to break its momentum.   
They went in together, John going for its legs, Todd bearing down on its chest until it fell, both of them atop, using all their strength to hold it down. Beckett went in after, reattaching some of the nodes that had come loose in the struggle. 

Between the two of them it was almost bearable. Granted between the limited peripheral vision a Hazmat suit provided and Todd all but straddling the creature's chest in front of him meant his view of his surroundings was restricted to Todd's back and shoulders. Which should have been boring. It was boring. That was the story he'd stick with.  
Nevermind that Todd's shoulderblades shifted under his coat with the effort of holding the creature down, strength coiled in an almost human frame, motions that wouldn't have looked odd on Ronon or Lorne but contrasted with his constant low growling, and the sheen of smooth green skin at his neck between slivers of white hair, it drove home just how alien he was.   
This was John's life now. Holding down a space zombie with an ancient space vampire so the clone of his favourite doctor could perform scientific tests. That and steadfastly ignoring the things a close up view of Todd's backmuscles did to him. Which was nothing. Nothing at all.

“Alright, I got it, “ Beckett said, removing the rubber cap from the plague victim's head and bringing a safe distance between it and himself. “You can let go now.”  
Todd made a sound that John chose to interpret as 'You go first, because you're just a weak human and I can hold this thing off longer than you'. He got up, only to watch Todd be thrown off like an overconfident rider on a bucking horse. He raised his rifle, waited for Todd to get out of the way, then fired at the creature again, less because he wanted to cause damage and more because it kept it at bay until they had backed out of the cell and to safety. 

Or at least into Woolsey's expecting arms, which was another kind of danger, although at least not of the flesh eating variety.   
“Good work, everyone,” he said and was acknowledged only by John.   
“Thank you, sir,” John said so Woolsey wouldn't be left ignored. He rubbed at a spot on his shoulders where the creature had almost pierced the suit. If it hadn't been for Todd, he might have gotten more than a small bruise. He looked at the creature in the cell, once again huddled in a corner against the forcefield. It must have been his imagination. Beckett's brain scan hadn't looked all that lively to his untrained eye. But still, he could have sworn that some of the sounds that had come out of its throat had sounded like pleas for help. He shuddered and turned away.  
“Alright, I have the readings. The good news is, these poor things are not alive anymore.”  
“If that is the good news,” Woolsey said. “What on earth could be the bad?”  
“I can't be completely sure, but it appears the patient's brain is stuck in a continuous feedback loop, based on their brain activity just before they died. If they died while being afraid or angry, they will continue to act on these emotions indefinitely.”  
And most people didn't die with a mild desire for calming tea on their minds.   
The creature inside the cage rose up again, bullet wounds closing before their eyes. It walked at them, hit the forcefield and kept pushing against it, energy sizzling softly. It remained that way when John couldn't bear to watch any longer. Woolsey caught his eye instead.  
“Sheppard, while you're here, I need to talk to you.”   
About something shifty and to do with Todd if his best attempt at a poker face and the amount of sideeye he gave the wraith were any indication. He'd never quite gotten used to having him a part of the expedition.   
John shrugged and clapped Todd on the shoulder as thanks for his help just then before following Woolsey.

It was something shifty and to do with Todd. John just hadn't counted on how shifty.  
“We figured out where he's been going these last few months,” Woolsey said without preamble the second they were out of earshot.   
“Not to his hive?”  
“No.” They rounded a corner, towards the gateroom. “I'm afraid it's not as simple as that.”  
Todd, Woolsey explained, had initially set course to his hive from Atlantis but then broke away and disappeared into an unknown region of space several times since joining the expedition. As far as anyone could tell there was nothing there but empty space, far away from any planets or stargates. The only way to reach the coordinates was to take a hyperspace capable ship.

Which did explain why a certain ship's captain was waiting for them in the gateroom.  
“Sheppard.”  
“Ronon! Good to see you.”   
They embraced, John croaked out the second part of his greeting which was meant to sound something like 'How have you been' but became hopelessly garbled as Ronon squeezed him tighter than Rodney did his stress balls. He patted Ronon's back, tapping out of a gesture of affection like out of a boxing match. Ronon let go, but he was grinning broadly and before John could protest he was engulfed in another hug, this one mercifully brief.  
“Glad to see you, old friend.”  
John wished they had time to catch up, he spotted a scar on Ronon's cheek that hadn't been there before and wanted eagerly to know the story, but Woolsey stood behind them, delicately clearing his throat.  
“As I was saying,” he said. “We have the coordinates of Todd's ultimate destination but no way of knowing what's there. Unless we ask him.”  
“No.”  
John didn't know why he'd said it only that he knew it was the right call after he did. Todd still had his own agenda. For all their supposed friendship, Todd was the same guy who'd betrayed them multiple times. And John wanted, just once, to be ahead of him.   
“Good call,” Ronon said. “Slimy bastard's up to no good, I can feel it.”  
Woolsey furrowed his brow and pressed his lips into a thin line, but that was his default expression.  
“Very well. You will follow the coordinates we have and find out where Todd is going. If whatever you find endangers Atlantis, you're expected to take appropriate action.”  
Involving C4, if John got the drift of that message.

They geared up like children sneaking out of the house, but Todd was nowhere to be seen. He was likely holed up in his lab, doing whatever work he did there. John squashed down his guilty conscience. It wasn't like Todd was always honest with them. They just didn't know yet what he was lying about. 

One good think to come of this mission was to see Ronon in full captain mode. They hadn't seen much of each other since he volunteered to get that Ancient frigate up to speed, but John didn't think his leadership qualities had just now developed. He led with the easy confidence of someone used to command, directing his crew into as seamless a takeoff as John had ever seen. The people around them looked up to Ronon, out of more than duty or professional courtesy. Part Athosian, part members of the Atlantis expedition, Ronon had chosen his crew out of a ragtag bunch of people who had failed to find a place elsewhere. It shouldn't have worked as well as it did. Their record proved otherwise.

“Wraith stunner to the face,” Ronon explained the scar on his cheek once they had entered hyperspace and he was free to walk around with his crew. “Nhaviq and Omikeye pulled my ass out of there just in time. Unarmed against six wraith commanders.”  
“Six?” Rodney said doubtfully. “That seems a lot.”  
“Four commanders, two drones. And Nhaviq had a knife.”   
A woman with a stern haircut and an even more serious expression walked up to Ronon to hand him a report. John thought vaguely he had seen her around the base before, one of the scientists who had joined the expedition later. Apparently she had found her calling as a wraith hunter since.  
“Details.”  
“Details are important. Captain.”  
She went down the hall in the opposite direction, while Ronon went back to bragging about his crew's accomplishments. It was refreshing to see him like this, happy the way he'd never quite been when he was still part of John's team. It seemed they both preferred giving orders to receiving them.  
Sooner or later though, the conversation turned to the usual topic.  
“Don't like this. We're probably walking into a trap.”  
Secretly John thought the same thing. It felt too obvious, the idea that Todd would have just let himself be followed too ridiculous. But there was at least a chance that they had gotten lucky or smart enough to challenge him  
“We'll find out soon enough. With any luck we'll sabotage his plans before he has a chance to execute them.”  
Ronon cocking his head and raising his eyebrow conveyed that he thought that was unlikely.  
“What if he already has?”  
The hum of the hyperspace engines seemed to become louder in the silence between them. Ronon looked around incredulously.  
“Come on, none of you have thought of it? The wraith disappears for days at a time and a few months later the entire galaxy is coming down with some weird disease. Not hard to draw a connection.”  
It wasn't, but despite his suspicion John wasn't ready to go that far. Surprisingly, neither was his team.  
“To what end?” Rodney assumed his default tone for inane assumptions, complete with Are You Kidding Me eyebrows and I'm Surrounded By Idiots mouth twist. “These things are stronger than wraith, why would he spread a plague that creates unkillable superzombies?”  
“I agree with Rodney,” Teyla said. “This disease threatens him as much as us. He has no reason to be behind this.”  
“Why does a wraith do anything?”  
This was an argument no one could win and John put a stop to it, urging his people to try and relax before they arrived. But the seed of doubt had been planted.

Between reuniting with his old friend and anticipating just what Todd had up his sleeve he'd felt he needed to hide in deep space, the journey went by surprisingly quickly. Before John could get used to calling Ronon 'captain', they had arrived, scanners fired up to find any secret no matter how well hidden. They needn't have bothered. A large structure filled the view screen the moment they dropped out of hyperspace, picked up loud and clear by sensors which had been looking for something much smaller. 

It was a ship. Although the design was unlike anything they'd ever seen. It looked vaguely wraith, with its organically curved, dark hull. But that was where the similarities ended. It lay dormant in space, the readings showing minimal power output and most systems nonfunctional. For all intents and purposes it was debris.   
Ronon told his people to take a closer look and they moved in, taking readings throughout. Not much more revealed itself. It rivalled Lantean cruisers in dimensions, and showed no lifesigns anywhere on board. The first surprise came at the docking port, which showed definite signs of having been tampered with.  
“Adjustments to fit wraith standard docking tubes,” one of Ronon's people said.  
John sighed. Some part of him had hoped they had Todd all wrong and that he'd never been here at all.  
“Alright, let's check it out. You coming, Ronon?”  
Ronon grinned, already out of his seat.  
“Wouldn't miss it.”

Three steps into the ship and John realised why he'd been overcome with a persistent sense of deja-vú ever since this whole thing started. The interior was wraith, smooth dark walls grown rather than built, just as the outside. But the lights were brighter and the layout was all Ancient. The exact same, in fact, as Ronon's ship the Melena, down to the height of the corridors. Except for the material used, it looked exactly like the ships described in the Ancient diaries John had been reading. He held back with an assessment, least of all because he'd have to explain to Ronon that he'd been reading wraith/Ancient romance in his spare time, until Rodney accessed the first datapoint they found.  
“I don't believe this,” he said, checking the connection and the data twice more before he continued. “That can't be right. This says this ship is older than the Wraith-Lantean war.”  
“Like mine,” Ronon said, frowning at the layout around him. He must have noticed the similarities.   
“Yes, but that's impossible. These designs shouldn't have mixed at all, nevermind that early. The Ancient archives say over and over that they discovered the Wraith about ten thousand years ago. And they were enemies from pretty much day one, weird novels notwithstanding.”  
John tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. They still didn't know just how much in these ancient diaries was true and how much wish fulfillment. None of the records they'd found so far confirmed that there had been an era of peace between Wraith and Ancients. Most directly contradicted what they had found from an, admittedly, pretty shaky source. Just because they were good reading didn't mean they were true.  
Except the very existence of this ship kind of proved them right.

They continued on, almost on autopilot, navigating as easily as on the Melena or Atlantis. They passed no feeding holds, no stasis chambers, but large rooms with rows of beds growing out of the floor and walls. Whoever had commandeered this ship had wanted people to lie down rather than keep them fresh. A persistent layer of dust lay over everything, finger thick except on the route John and his team took, the one that led to the captain's quarters. Someone had been here, recently and often. Someone who left not only footprints but the sweeping trail of a long coat brushing over the floor.  
John cursed to himself under his breath. He had better not find a superweapon.  
The door panel to the quarters had been removed and replaced with a wraith device likely designed to circumvent the lock. It melted into the walls to reveal a large room with wide windows unlike typical Wraith designs. The path free of dust ended near an empty chair in a large circle. 

While his team spread out to inspect the machinery and various items this captain had left behind millennia ago, John traced its shape. Someone had sat here – he mimicked the likely movement sitting down, trying not to imagine having a coat to sweep aside – arms behind his back, yes there were handprints just at the edge of the circle. John looked around. Nothing much revealed itself, except the captain's chair and a console near it. He reached up with a little trouble, and turned it on.  
The room was suffused in soft green light as a hologram sprang to life, ancient even by Lantean standards, the quality rough as it played back the latest recording.   
“... in the lab. ... -ain from the planet's surface ... -opulation critical ... - ow survivability.”  
The person in the recording might have been mistaken for an Ancient. She wore clothes in their style, a simple beige uniform, and her hair in fine braids. But her face was Wraith, from her sharp teeth to her slitted pupils. This was a Wraith queen.   
The recording cut out repeatedly, badly damaged over time. The word betrayal came up a lot, but not a lot of context besides. Eventually it cut out for good, the remaining entries as badly damaged as this one. 

He sat on the floor – where Todd must have sat, for hours or even days, repairing and listening to these recordings – staring up at the still image of the Wraith queen, who had felt betrayed, who wore Ancient clothes and didn't have a feeding hold on her ship. John wondered what Todd thought he could gain from these excursions. Why he never told anyone about them. He had a bad feeling he'd find out soon.

They moved onto where on an Ancient ship the science lab would be, dust removed here too, but the trails weren't the same. Some of Todd's people maybe.   
They did find a science lab, and it had recently been disturbed. Machines ran automatic processes, softly whirring. The smell of chemicals hung in the air. Rodney wrinkled his nose.  
“Bioscience,” he said derisively and John had to give him a look to get him to check the computers for any useful data. While Rodney did his thing, John moved around, looking for nothing specific and finding it anyway. A coffee cup, or the Ancient equivalent, sat glued to the surface of a machine, millennia old stains still visible in the material. Wraith didn't drink or eat. Ancients did. John traced the rim of the cup and came away with a finger's width of dust.   
“Jackpot,” Rodney said and then: “Oh no.”  
“What?”  
They converged on Rodney who stood before the computer, hastily checking and double checking the data he'd called up.  
“Well,” he said at last, pushing away from the console. “We found our ground zero. They were researching some kind of bacteria in this lab, _b. eschalia_. No telling what it is at a glance, but I'd bet money that it's responsible for what we're dealing with.”  
They looked at each other.  
“It ... may yet be a coincidence,” Teyla said.  
Ronon scoffed. So did Rodney.  
“Yeah? Let's see. There should be six samples of the strain in their storage units. According to the scanners they are still active. Let's open this thing up ...”  
There were four. No dust had gathered on the inside of the container, it was impossible to tell when they'd been taken, but two strains of a deadly disease had gone missing at the same time another deadly disease sprung up out of nothing. Stolen from a wraith ship frequently visited by a scheming ten thousand year old wraith, who'd already shown that he was much more pragmatic than trustworthy.  
“We don't know it was Todd who took them. How would he have found out about this?”  
Ancient wraith outposts, spies, explorers, dumb luck. All possible options, but John knew the answer.  
“Through me.”  
His team stared at him, part incredulous, part accusing.   
“There were these books we were ... studying.” Reading together in moments of companionship rather, but John tried not to think about that part. “We weren't even sure if it was all real, I mean Rodney said it was, but come on, it couldn't be, right? It must have given Todd the idea to look for a ship like this.”  
And he'd found one. Because John had not only given him access to his old enemy's archives, he'd damn well sat down and read their secrets to him. He cursed, turned away so he wouldn't have to look his people in the eye. He wondered when Todd had formed the plan to unleash a deadly plague on the galaxy. Between missions? When they were playing video games together? Everytime John wasn't looking because he figured it was safe to let a wraith run wild on the base?  
“Fucking hell, Todd,” John muttered under his breath.

Armed with these new revelations, they chose to make one more sweep of the ship, recover any pertinent data and possibly blow it to pieces. Someone else did that last part for them. The ground shook as something impacted with the hull of the ship. John stumbled, got caught by Ronon who set him on his feet, looking around. Lights flickered, dust clouds shook loose from the walls. John became acutely aware that he was standing on an ancient ship that had drifted in space for who knew how long without any meaningful defensive capabilites. Another hit rocked the ship. This was no malfunction. They were under attack.  
“Back to the Jumper!”  
They broke into a run, back the way they came. John rushed down hallways, Ronon behind him shouting orders for his people to find whoever was shooting at this ship. John could make out the word 'Jumper', and doubled his speed.  
“We're already on our way there!”  
“She said it's another Jumper.”  
“What?”  
They reached their Jumper, filing in one after the other. By the time the rearhatch closed, John was already in the air, dodging falling ship debris as he navigated the ship out of the landing bay. Ronon's people kept telling him what they saw, or rather didn't see. The Jumper fired, engaged its cloak, then uncloaked to fire at the Wraith ship from another angle. Ronon's people passed on the coordinates of the latest sightings but even then it took John a feat of flying to get the other ship on the sensors.  
It was a Jumper, firing its weapons at the now deserted ship, several gaping holes in its hull already. The moment it popped up on their sensors it ceased fire and John knew exactly who was in that ship.  
He opened a channel before Rodney could stop him, but Todd was still faster.  
“You should not be here,” was the first thing he said, which was, everything considered, all in all, pretty rich coming from him.  
“I should not be here? How about you stop firing at ships I'm on, huh? You nearly killed us all.”  
“I assure you, you were not my intended target. I assumed the thieves had returned to-”  
“What thieves?”  
“As I was about to explain,” Todd said with a warning snarl. “Several things were stolen from this ship.”  
“You mean the strain of a deadly disease you just happened to have access to?”  
For once, Todd looked thrown. He hesitated for a moment, one that John took mean, petty joy in.  
“Yes,” he said at last. “It was stolen-”  
Rodney made a sound of disparagement.  
“A likely story,” he said. John tended to agree. But he'd rather have this conversation in person, so he could shake the truth out of Todd if necessary.  
“Why don't I believe a word you say? Get to the Melena. I don't care how you got here, but you're coming back with us.”

Todd had hitched a ride with them, it turned out. Somehow he had gotten wind of their plan and liberated one of the Jumpers in the bay to piggyback a ride on the hull of the Melena without being discovered. John would be angry if he wasn't also fairly sure he'd been the one to give Todd the idea. Again.  
Ronon was persuaded to let Todd on his ship only under constant guard. Todd bared his teeth at them as he came aboard, before he focused all his intensity on John.  
“Am I to be your prisoner again, John Sheppard?”  
“That depends. You still sticking to that story of 'thieves stole my deadly virus'?”  
Todd jutted his jaw and squared his shoulders, upper lip drawn up to bare his teeth, but John's rage matched it easily. Fury boiled inside him, at himself for letting it get this far, at Todd for betraying them again. He'd genuinely believed they could make this work. He'd gone so far as to consider the idea he had feelings beyond the platonic for Todd, blindly stumbling into yet another of his traps.   
Todd tilted his head to the side, but said nothing. It had been a while since he'd fallen back completely on non-verbal communication, but he wasn't even snarling anymore. He was silent, the way he only was when he felt threatened. A fight or flight response to John accusing him of lying.   
“You wanne be that way. Fine with me. Ronon, get us back to Atlantis, we'll-”  
“I have the location of the next outbreak.”  
John stilled. Was this an admission of guilt? Or an ally sharing valuable intel? With Todd, it might be both. He looked into his eyes, knowing he was about as likely to see the truth reflected there as Todd was to break into spontaneous song. Everything in him screamed that this was another trap, a way to buy their trust for some nefarious purpose. He hesitated.  
Teyla was the one broke the tense standoff.  
“I believe we should trust him, John. He is our ally,” she said as she laid a hand on his arm. John risked a quick glance towards her, without breaking his focus away from Todd and where he kept his hands.  
“Fine.”  
He would regret this. But they could not afford to ignore this kind of information.  
He turned to Todd but, unable to admit possibly being wrong, only waved at him to continue.  
“You know what this is,” he said, still tense but there was a hint of snarling, the growling of a large beast. “You have learned it from the same source I have. The wraith on this ship fought the Eschalian plague. Their laboratories stored a strain of the disease. Other wraith, I do not yet know their identity, stole it. I am uncertain as to what end, but I have determined the site where they next plan to release it. If we hurry, we will be able to stop them. If not ...”  
If not, they had another dead colony on their hands. They both knew John couldn't take that risk.   
He just hoped they weren't flying to their deaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I'd started this series now, I'd have written a very different kind of story. Actually considered scrapping that whole plague-ancient wraith storyline for this story multiple times and come up with something better. I eventually stuck to it, but made it so that all the necessary information is in this fic, so I didn't have to cringe at my old writing too much.


	3. Chapter 3

“We have fought by each other's sides for months and still you distrust me.”  
John tried hard to ignore Todd, but they had always known how to push each other's buttons. He wasn't in a cell, and John wasn't interrogating him, but they'd played this game more than once. He knew his lines by heart.  
“Yeah well, tough luck,” he said. “There's a line in the sand, and biological warfare? Kinda crosses it.”  
“I assure you, John Sheppard, I did not seek this ship for the plague it contained.”  
John gritted his teeth. His name practically dripped from Todd's tongue, as if he was even now mocking him for falling this easily for his tricks. What had been a gesture of friendliness, even intimacy, turned grating over Todd's apparent betrayal.   
“Then why not tell me – us?” He corrected himself, cleared his throat. He didn't want to give Todd the idea that he was personally affected by this. His concern was for the people of Atlantis and all the humans of the Pegasus galaxy.  
Todd tilted his head, this little gesture alone driving John's blood pressure up. He pushed himself into motion, paced the room to keep calm.   
“And what would you have done with that knowledge? My kind fear the process of feeding even now, as the disease you helped create courses invisible through our feeding stock. Or perhaps you would have used it to create another virus altogether, one that strips away everything we are and leaves us half-bred mutts.”  
Todd's voice had risen towards the end, stopping just below outright shouting. John had never heard him so agitated. He didn't truly think Todd was capable of it.   
But for whatever reason, this went beyond their usual back and forth. John did not react to Todd's accusations, mostly because he had no idea what to say. The Hoffan drug was partly their creation, true. And they had used the retrovirus on unwilling wraith before. But this was different. People dying with no purpose, only to rise from the dead in an affront to everything they believed about the dignity of the dead? This was on another scale entirely, there was no reason to do any of this.   
Todd had no reason to pollute his own feeding grounds like this. 

Todd, sensing his hesitation, pounced.  
“I have nothing to gain from the deaths of your kind, John Sheppard. Instead of arguing we should-”  
“Will you stop it with my name already!”  
Todd fell silent, though out of respect or surprise John didn't know. He pulled his hand through his hair, noticed absently that Todd was following the motion transfixed.  
“Don't pretend we're-” friends, lay on John's tongue but he didn't know if that was what they were. You didn't kiss your friends and then avoided them for days because it had made things awkward. You didn't accuse them of unleashing a deadly disease on an unsuspecting populace either.  
Ronon saved him from having to finish that sentence.  
“We're here,” he said over the intercom.  
John tried not to show his relief.  
“All right, gear up. You too,” he added towards Todd. Trap or not he'd rather have him where he could see him.

The planet below was home to a worshipper colony, which was the second reason Ronon chose to stay behind on the ship. The first was named Todd and basking in the attention of people who worshipped him like a god.  
John had never really thought about what wraith worshippers were like. They had met the occasional one on their travels who had turned to working for the wraith out of necessity or desperation. 

In this settlement statues of the wraith had been erected in copper, turned green and because of this strangely more lifelike.   
John rounded the statue while they waited for Todd to negotiate for information. It was a wraith queen, standing on the backs of her lesser commanders who in turn sheltered stone humans at the base.  
“Looks like you,” John said to Teyla, because he'd seen her expression and couldn't resist poking at it a little. “When you were, you know-”   
He made a gesture he hoped encompassed general wraithiness.  
“Very funny,” Teyla said, but she was smiling.   
She'd always had a special relationship with the wraith, gained from an understanding most others would never have. He never asked how her perception of them had changed since Todd had joined their team.  
“Do you trust him?”  
They looked to Todd who stood surrounded by people, presenting him with gifts and pleas. Save our children, my health is failing, bring rain from the skies.   
John was pretty sure Todd didn't have the power to change the weather, but he didn't hear him dissuade the townsfolk from their notions. He barely listened, either, asked more questions than he answered, waving off particularly persistent petitioners.   
“I don't think it wise to truly trust someone as old and cunning as him,” Teyla said. “But he has been a faithful ally to us. I think he has earned the right to prove his innocence.”  
It was a feat and a half to put Todd and innocence into the same thought, but Teyla had a point. One John wasn't exactly willing to concede, but there all the same.

Todd approached them, worshippers trailing behind him like a veil.  
“They know of the Eschalian plague but claim to be protected.”   
“But ...?”  
Todd growled softly, and made a sweeping gesture at the settlement. At first John didn't see anything out of the ordinary. A man was cleaning his windows and as they watched moved on to do his neighbour's, another was braiding his child's hair into an elaborate hairdo. Two women carved fruit, a sizable heap next to them already. Several children had drawn on the cobblestones with chalk, an entire sidestreet filled up with artwork.   
“Lively bunch,” John said slowly.  
“Just like in the other settlements,” Rodney added who out of habit had looked for strange wraith technology. “People are getting more energetic-”  
“Then they get more dead,” John finished. Todd made a noise of agreement.   
“Follow me,” he said. “I believe there to be one of our outposts nearby. They may know who is responsible.”

They kept their weapons drawn, but followed on the assumption that they had come this far and if Todd had wanted to spring a trap, he likely would have done it already. The area surrounding the town was littered with jagged hilltops and small cliffs, and Todd appeared to have only very general knowledge of the area. They were forced to turn around and make lengthy detours around impassable terrain several times. More than two hours passed to reach an outpost from which, as John checked the path behind them, the village could still be seen.   
They regrouped behind an outcropping, to form a plan of attack and let Rodney catch his breath.

Before them lay a semi-open area, a tent-like structure grown from the same material as their ships covering what looked like a field lab. Several small buildings grew out of the tent roof and into the ground, probably sealed labs or what counted for living spaces among the wraith. Three wraith milled about, working on their stations, at least appearing to be unaware of their presence.  
“They don't know we're here. Let's get rid of these guys then download what we can from their computers.”  
Rodney showed his agreement by giving a thumbs up, still too breathless to form words.  
“Foolish and reckless,” Todd said, because of course he did. “Best to deceive them-  
“You're good at that.”  
Todd ignored his jab.  
“They will not see me as a threat and you will be able to pass as worshippers if you lay down your weapons.”  
“Not gonna happen.”  
He caught him in a stare-off, Todd attempting through sheer intensity to convince John of the soundness of his plan. John meanwhile attempted to nonverbally convey how little of a snowball's chance in hell there was he'd walk unarmed into a wraith outpost with only Todd's word for protection. Teyla attempted to interject but soon realised they were caught up in their own thing.   
“Sooner or later you will have to trust me.”  
“Not today, I think.”  
This wasn't about the plan anymore. He wasn't sure if it had ever been.   
Todd wasn't about to give in. John didn't give him a choice.  
He motioned for Teyla and Rodney to spread out, take up flanking positions. With one last look at Todd he took off to find a better vantage point. With or without him, they'd be getting into that outpost.

They attacked from all sides at once, but the wraith were still too quick. They rushed to the computer terminals, as he broke out of cover, firing a volley of bullets into the closest wraith. Todd's stunner grazed a second one, the energy bolt flashing above John's head. He ran ahead, a streak of black amid the grey hills.   
Teyla came in from the south, sweeping at the third wraith with tight form. He dodged her attack just barely, forced to let himself fall and jump back up to avoid having his face broken.   
Rather than fight, he disengaged, defensive posture forsaken in favour of doing something at the computer closest to him.   
“Stop him!”   
Teyla used the momentum from her attack to launch herself at the wraith, coming in from behind him, one foot on the ground, the other in a sweeping kick to lend her attack more strength.  
The wraith dodged the first blow by sheer luck, but was too slow for the second. She knocked him down with a crunch that spoke of broken bones, while Rodney, firing at the wraith with his handgun, raced to the terminal. John lost sight of him as he engaged the second wraith who had recovered from the momentary shock and leapt at him, knife barely missing his cheek.   
John ducked, pivoted on his feet around the wraith. The butt of his rifle hit the wraith's shoulderblades, he stumbled forward, right into Todd who met him with his own knives. With two quick slashes, the wraith slumped to the ground, dead.   
The first wraith must have fed recently because he got back up again, clothes torn by the volley of bullets but healing even now. He looked momentarily confused by Todd, then dove aside as John fired again. His bullets blew past the wraith, ricocheting off the wall. He ducked, wasted a valuable second trying to get his bearings, during which the wraith grabbed something off a table. Todd went in after him, closing the distance rapidly, John took aim but saw right away he didn't need to bother firing.   
Before he could shout out a warning, before he could debate if he should, Todd fell back as the wraith pressed a grenade to his chest, yellow eyes piercing John's for a fraction of a second. He threw himself to the ground, hit dry earth and stone, eyes squeezed shut.  
The explosion took out half the campsite. Teyla and Rodney ducked, hit by stone shrapnel cast up from the ground but protected by the thick layers of tent webbing between them and the wraith. John had barely enough time to cover his ears, but they still rang, a high pitched whistling drowning out everything else except the sounds of hacking coughs he realised belonged to Todd. He got to his feet, so did Todd, dusted in a layer of stone debris and looking disheveled and disoriented, but not injured. John suppressed a sigh of relief and looked around. Teyla and Rodney were clustered around the terminal. Wraith three lay motionless on the ground, wraith two was too lacerated to be alive and wraith one he spotted near the table, on the tent walls, and on some bushes.  
The whole fight had taken less than a minute. 

He joined with Rodney who was frantically typing something into the computer, accompanied by a litany of 'No, no, no, come on', until with a final curse he punched the keyboard.  
“It's all gone,” he said, frustration palpable. “Whatever they had to hide, there's no way of knowing now.”  
John was acutely aware that Todd was staring at him. He didn't need to check, he felt his eyes boring into him, and wondered if he had become just a hint telepathic in the last few hours because he could _hear_ Todd thinking 'I told you so'.   
“There has to be something we can use,” John said. “Can we at least tell if they're connected with the plague?”  
“Judging from this setup? Probably. But honestly, they may as well have been trying to cure it. No way to tell.”

What little the wraith had left behind and not destroyed along with themselves, it was of little use. John ordered the team to collect what they could anyway, figuring Beckett might have a use for weird goopy stuff in vials and test strips of varying colours.   
Inwardly he cursed himself. Another misstep, and without it, no more leads. They had precisely nothing to show for their little journey. Except that Todd was now well aware they were suspecting him. If he was really involved, he'd make doubly sure to hide his tracks from now. 

And/or loom behind John like a particularly badly designed beach umbrella. John managed to ignore his presence for all of five minutes before he broke.  
“Do you have something to say?”  
Todd looked as if he had plenty to say, nothing of it complementary. Fair enough. If he wanted an encore to their little argument on the ship, John was willing to let him have one.  
“If you had done as I said-”  
“We didn't, deal with it.”  
“You made a costly decision that could have been avoided-”  
“If you had been honest with us from the start-”  
“You have given me little reason to be honest, John Sheppard-”  
“-this might have gone differently-”  
“-you were the one who once asked me to deceive on your behalf.”  
That shut John up. He hadn't expected Todd would bring up their little ... episode. In his mind they had come to an understanding never to speak of it again.   
“That's not the same thing and you know it.”  
Again that infuriating headtilt of his. His hair fell across his shoulders, thick and bonewhite and John remembered burying his hand in it, how soft it had felt, how much he'd wanted to pull and drag every desperate groan out of Todd he could. If it had been only that, he could have dealt with it, but it was not. It was days spent together sparring, talking, exploring the city. Todd feeling safe to talk to in a way not even Rodney or Teyla did. Their shoulders brushing, their eyes meeting, the constant purring snarls Todd subconsciously made, that had always been there from the day they met, but had at some point between then and now become a source of comfort rather than trepidation.   
Even a perceived betrayal hurt worse than it would have coming from anyone else on his team. They both knew why and John hated that Todd knew.  
“Is it not, John Sheppard? After what we shared-”  
“We didn't share shit!”  
Todd actually took a step back. He raised his arms in front of his chest as if expecting to be attacked. John forced his voice down. He didn't need to see her worried glance to know Teyla had heard and knew or could at least guess what was going on.   
“There's nothing between us,” he hissed, just loud enough for Todd to hear. “You're only still around because you're useful, and nothing will ever change that. The moment you fall out of line, or endanger my people ...”  
“All bets are off.”   
Todd echoed his words back at him, across a distance of three years. Even in his helpless rage, a part of John was surprised Todd remembered. Nothing in his face gave a hint as to what he was thinking.  
“All bets are off,” he repeated.


	4. Chapter 4

Without the data from the wraith outpost, Beckett chose to tackle the Eschalian plague the old-fashioned way. Without a speciment to dissect - they'd ejected the one that had followed them to Atlantis from a jumper into space, unable to kill it any other way - samples needed to be obtained another way.  
Science teams had already run missions to affected planets before their departure, now with Woolsey's blessing, all of Atlantis had been roped into the effort.  
“Alright, listen up, people.” The assembled room turned their attention to Beckett. “We do not yet know how this disease is transmitted or what the incubation period is. Airborne transmission is unlikely, but until further notice you and your teams will be required to wear full biohazard gear. Please be especially careful when handling samples, we do not want you getting sick as well.”  
John, ears still ringing from the argument he'd had with Woolsey earlier about Todd, did not fail to notice that Todd sat a fair distance apart from him, as quiet as he'd rarely been since joining the team. Even across the entire room with over a dozen people his pseudo-purring was still noticeably absent. Rodney, who sat next to him, had to notice but he didn't show if it bothered him. Rather than thinking about why Todd was in such a bad mood, John focused on the task at hand.  
“Most planets you'll be visiting have small populations, you'll be able to take samples from everyone. If a person shows symptoms, I want blood drawn every six hours and vitals measured every hour. You all have dictaphones in your kits, make sure to describe everything you see, no matter how trivial. Once you return from your mission, you will be required to go into quarantine for 24 hours, plan accordingly. You have your mission assignments, good luck to you all.”  
The team leaders began filing out to prepare. John started by gathering his team. Todd was still on it. Woolsey had been rather adamant about that.  
Teyla would lead an Athosian team, leaving one spot open in the form of-  
“My sister? That can't be right.”  
Rodney checked and double checked the handout. Jeannie Miller's name stayed on it. 

If there was one good thing to come out of this whole mess, it was to see Rodney and Jeannie interact.  
From the second Jeannie entered the gateroom, looking out of place in her mom jeans and tactical vest, they fell into their old habits.  
“You can't be here,” was the first thing Rodney said. “You- you're a civilian.”  
“So are you, Meredith,” she reminded him, hugging first John, then Todd in greeting. John still didn't understand how she could do that this easily. Todd ate humans, and he was also a shifty old bastard, but she treated him like a beloved if distant cousin. Rodney completely ignored her exchanging pleasantries.  
“No, I'm not. Well, yes I am, but you know what I mean. You could get sick, or get bitten by an alien snake, or what if these people become aggressive again?”  
“That only seems to happen when you tried to burn them to death. I read the reports, you know?”  
“Okay, first off, it wasn't me who set that fire. Why do you always assume I want to burn people?”  
“What so in fourth grade Tommy Mackintosh's shoes just happened to catch on fire?”  
“That was over thirty years ago! Besides, that's completely beside the point, which is-”  
John could have spent an afternoon just listening to these two go on. From their argument about who set which fires they turned to Jeannie's continued refusal to publish papers, to vegetarian food, back to her volunteering for this mission again. By the time they dialed the gate, Todd had been roped in as an impartial judge to determine exactly which one of them had made the better life choices, over all, over their respective lifetimes. Favourite sandwich toppings seemed to be the center of that argument and as they exited the gate on another planet and started on their way to the nearest settlement, John got to enjoy seeing Todd thoroughly out of his element but doing his best.  
“It's an abomination. Peas don't belong on a sandwich, tell her.”  
“What is-”  
“Don't listen to him, Todd, peas are healthy and tasty. A pound of mayo is not. You don't approve of junk food, do you?”  
“That's ...”  
“Junk food? It's not junkfood. Fats enhance the taste, and we need them to live, even a wraith would know that.”  
“As it were, I-”  
“That's what the cheese is for.”  
John was just about to further complicate matters by bringing up the importance of the proper kind of cheese to Todd, who so far was only peripherally aware that cheese existed as a concept, when they rounded a corner and came upon the settlement.

Cots had been put up in the middle of the town square, blankets spread out between them as makeshift beds, when the town's inhabitants had run out of space to put up the sick. According to their mission brief, the entire town was supposed to have less than a thousand people. Quickly extrapolating in his head, John realised there were easily twice as many around now.  
“Alright, let's see if we can find the guy in charge and-”  
“The guy is actually a woman.”  
An woman approached them with a logbook and a matter of fact attitude. She was roughly in her fifties, glasses skewed on her nose, wearing a clean and light uniform that was marking her as the likely expert on the situation.  
“Sorry, ma'am, we just-”  
She didn't let him speak.  
“If you have the Life Plague, you are welcome to set up here and help us out,” she said. “If you do not, please keep your distance and don't harrass my patients.”  
She gave each of them a critical once-over, stopping short at the sight of Todd, who looked far too relieved to have just walked into a plague outbreak. Then again, Jeannie and Rodney had stopped arguing.  
“We want to help,” Jeannie said. “Todd here is our friend, he wants to help, too.”  
Most people reacted with fear or anger at the sight of a wraith just waltzing into their hometown. This woman shrugged.  
“Fine by me. Your job will be to put the dead in quarantine. Everytime someone dies, you get them over there-” She pointed at a hatch John assumed led to some kind of cellar. “And drop them in. Don't worry about breaking bones, they don't seem to mind. If you want to use whatever's in that coffer you have, you ask permission from the patients first.”  
She made a note of their arrival in her book, then hurried off to deal with the next emergency, leaving John and his team the pick of the litter in terms of samples. The litter was a deadly plague litter, but still. 

Jeannie and Rodney picked up their argument where they left off as they approached the first patient, which was probably why Todd chose to go with John to deal with the dead instead. The general air was one of barely organised chaos, mixed with trepidation as no few people made wide berths around the cellar door where John took his first body.  
Few of the people who had come down with the plague actually stayed on the cots assigned to them. They moved around the camp, handing out blankets, food, and water, measuring each other's vitals, passing information to the woman they'd spoken to. They seemed unable to sit down, but it meant they didn't stop to contemplate their doom either, until their energy suddenly wanded and they died soon after. After a few trips back and forth John figured out that the people sitting down were next down the line for a trip to the cellar. No one around tried to cure the disease or alleviate its symptoms. Of which there weren't many. People felt fine, better than fine, then they died. On a planet that was not their own.  
From the conversations around him, John learned that most of the people here had come from elsewhere, seeking the apparently famous medical knowledge of the healers here. Some had been exiled from their homes as the people there feared the plague being spread.  
Another common thread of worry presented itself.  
“Some of these people appear to have gone missing,” Todd said as they carried a particularly heavyset plague victim.  
“Probably down in the cellar with the others,” John said, trying very hard not to sound out of breath. He was almost sure Todd could have carried this one alone and just enjoyed seeing him struggle. Payback for their argument earlier, although if that was all, Todd had lost his step.  
He made a sound doubting John's assessment but didn't offer argument. He didn't need to. Jeannie, as if called by telepathy, joined them.  
“Did you hear? Someone's kidnapping these people.”  
Todd looked even more smug than usual.  
“No one's kidnapping anyone,” John said. “It's hard keeping track of everyone coming and going. I don't even know where Rodney is right now, and he has a chip under his skin.”  
“No, this is more than that, I just know it. Some of the people here said they saw a bunch of shifty looking guys coming from the other side of town. I'm going to check it out.”  
Apparently Rodney's stubborn streak was a hereditary trait.  
“I will accompany you,” Todd said before John could bring up the 'It's dangerous to go alone' argument.  
There was no talking Jeannie out of this and so John admitted defeat.  
“Alright, but we all go together. _If_ there's something to find, we'll take care of it. If things get sticky, I want you to do exactly as I say. No heroics.”  
“Promise,” Jeannie said.  
Todd let go of his half of the plague victim without warning. John buckled under the weight, barely pulling away his feet before they were crushed.  
Bastard.

He called Rodney over the radio to meet them at the other side of town. The streets were full to bursting with people, even in the side alleys. The first breath of fresh air, relatively speaking as they still wore their suits, came as they went past the last houses on the road, only dense forest area in front of them. Rodney joined them just as they reached the point were cobblestones morphed into a well-trodden dirt road, slightly muddy from recent rainfall.  
They saw right away that Jeannie, and Todd, had been onto something.  
“Does that look like someone's been dragged here? Because, I actually wanted to talk to you about that. Did you know that people are disappearing right around here?”  
Jeannie, Todd, and John shared a look among each other that was only a little bit exasperated.  
“No, Rodney, we had no idea,” John said. “We just decided to take a little walk.”  
“Oh. Right.”  
A toddler with a blind parrot for company could have followed the tracks, but Todd took point nonetheless, claiming to be the more experienced tracker. John let him, because it meant he got to keep an eye on him. Woolsey, his team, the entire world could assure him that they trusted Todd, he wasn't going let himself be fooled again. Todd wasn't his friend, he was an ally out of necessity. If he repeated it long enough, sooner or later he'd believe it.

The path left behind by the alleged kidnappers led them in a wide curve around the town back to the stargate. A few hundred meters before they reached the treeline, Todd held up his hand. They stilled, crouching down in the heavy foliage. At first John didn't know why they'd stopped. Then he heard it, too.  
Voices. Some loud and commanding, others desperate and pleading. As they crept forward, careful to keep hidden, they came on a small camp of about seven people, and again this many tied up and kneeling on the forest floor, begging to be freed. Todd didn't move a muscle, didn't make a sound, and he still managed to convey to John exactly how much he enjoyed being right.  
“Yes, fine, people are being kidnapped. Happy?” John muttered and got a dose of judgmental headshaking from Jeannie for that.  
“Alright, spread out. Jeannie, stay hidden, keep your head down. Don't come out unless I tell you to. Todd, you're with-”

Something cold and pointy pressed against his neck.  
Well, shit.  
“No wrong moves,” said the man, as he nudged them to stand up. Several of the kidnappers ahead broke off from their group.  
“Good,” said one of them who reminded John of a low budget post-apocalyptic version of Kavanaugh. “More sacrifices for the altar!”  
“Oh great, you're lunatics,” John said, but he didn't get to have a verbal sparring match because at that moment Mad Max Kavanaugh spotted Todd.  
He sank to his knees, awe and terror in his face as he averted his eyes, pleading with his hands.  
“A wraith, here. Please, have mercy, my lord, we did not know these were your quarries. We bring you gifts, look upon them. We beg you find them worthy.”  
Jeannie mouthed a silent 'what the frick' to John. He was pretty certain she'd sounded out frick. Consequences of being a mother, he guessed. He shrugged to indicate he hadn't dealt with this particular brand of insanity before. Todd had or could at least reasonably fake it.  
“What makes you think these would please me?”  
He marched ahead, leaving the kidnappers hurrying to catch up. Which was difficult to do as they refused to come out of their half bow they'd assumed as soon as they'd seen Todd.  
“Master, these all have the Life Plague. They are overflowing with life energy, we selected the best of the stock. They will provide you ample opportunity to feed before they perish. You will never want for feeding stock again. All that we ask in return, humbly, my lord-”  
One of the kidnappers came up to the leader, whispering urgently into his ear. John couldn't make out much, but thought he heard the words 'pet wraith'. Which sounded funny but was probably a bad thing, considering the circumstances.  
As if someone had flipped a switch the demeanour of these people changed.  
The sycophant in charge turned to steel.  
“You're not wraith,” he said and John had to emphatically disagree. He'd have noticed if Todd had suddenly changed species. “You betrayed your kin for these creatures. The true wraith will reward me richly for bringing them your severed head. Attack!”

John threw himself between Jeannie and the attackers and nearly collided with Todd who had attempted to do the same. They caught themselves, John tearing his hazmat suit free from a snag in Todd's coat, Todd firing over his head as John ducked underneath his arms to take on the people who had stayed up at the camp until now. Jeannie ducked into cover helped by Rodney who was still in the process of trying to explain himself vis a vis his not running immediately to Jeannie's heroic rescue.  
Minus Jeannie, who was not trained in combat, they were up three against seven. Lousy odds that would have made John call a retreat under other circumstances. But they did have Todd with them, who engaged two guys at once, throwing them bodily to the ground, snapping one's neck while feeding on the other. Two crossbow bolts pierced his sides without him noticing. John took aim at the archer, shot first him then the woman next to him down with one burst of fire. Todd was free to move on to the next enemy, no longer flanked and John pulled his rifle in a tight arc against the next enemy.  
Behind him Rodney shouted as he was hit with the blunt end of a sword, firing and missing as his assailant moved onto the spot where Jeannie had taken cover.  
Both he and Rodney broke into a run at the same time, John firing as he went, looking to distract more than injure, Rodney closer but struggling to recover from the blow. Jeannie's head was just visible over the foliage as she scrambled back, shouting for someone to help her, metal glinting in the sun. The sword came down in a wide swing, John pushed off his feet and came barrelling into the man just as the weapon completed its arc.  
Jeannie screamed, Rodney shouted, Todd's threatening snarls above the din drowned out the screams of their enemies. John wrestled with the man, struggling to gain a hold while trying to keep the sword out of his face, made harder by the fact that the attackers had apparently coated their weapons in some kind of slick oil. The guy favoured his left arm, trying to keep him away from it, so John doubled down on it, forced his entire weight down onto it. He screamed as it broke, John rolled off of him, firing three bursts directly into his stomach. The body went limp and he scrambled to check on Jeannie.  
She was alive, Rodney with her, fussing over a small cut in her hazmat suit. Satisfied for now John turned to deal with the rest of the fanatics and found an empty camp.

Todd was in the process of untying the kidnapping victims who one after the other ran back to town.  
He was purring again, John noticed as he came closer, even though he had several arrows in him. It seemed all it had taken to put him in a better mood was some light recreational combat. He pulled the arrows like one would splinters, only slightly irritated at the holes in his coat. He looked up as John approached. His eyes widened.  
“John, watch ou-”  
Sharp pain burst from John's side. He cried out, fell to his knees. Todd barged past him, weapons forgotten as he attacked the last fanatic with his bare hands. Blood sprayed, hit John's suit and face cover, he ducked, groaned with pain as he clutched at his wound. His hands came away bloody.  
“Todd ...” he croaked, pain and dizziness making him weak. “Todd, stop. He's already dead.”  
Ignoring the stream of sticky warm blood drenching his clothes and body armour he reached out, nearly fell over but managed to grab a fistful of Todd's coat and yank at it.  
Todd snarled, lashed out at John, then pulled back almost panicked when he realised it was him. He dropped his victim, or what was left of him, hovering over John as if he didn't quite know what to do.  
“I have just fed, I can ...” Todd trailed off, looking John up and down, reaching out but hesitating. John was in too much pain to figure out what he meant.  
“Sheppard? John! What happened?”  
Even through the haze of agony, John managed a respectable eyeroll.  
“I was stabbed, Rodney. That's what happened. Now help me up.”

Thanks to years of training and indomitable will John avoided just barely having to be carried back to the gate by Todd. He stumbled through the event horizon, Beckett with a medical team already waiting in the gateroom. The last thing he saw before Beckett's wonderful, beautiful, amazing drugs took hold was Todd, up to his forearms in other people's blood, pushing nurses aside to stay at John's side. 

Three days later Beckett declared him the luckiest man alive and fit for light duty.  
“Half an inch up and the knife would have pierced your lungs,” he had said when John had first woken up and now again when he itched to get out and do something with his time. He'd never been good at bed rest. Beckett let him go with the promise to take things easy. John, cooped up in bed for three too long days, had to force himself not to go for a jog. Instead he caught up on his paperwork, and all the routine work that his position forced him to do. He even found time to clean his room, talk Teyla into a light workout, and come full circle by ending up back with Beckett, asking if there was anything more to do for him.  
“Oh no, we have plenty of samples to study. It's actually quite fascinating. But I'm sure you don't want to hear-”  
“No, I do. Go ahead, doc.”  
Beckett looked pleasantly surprised. Usually John was not the biggest fan of dry science talk, but Woolsey had cancelled all missions that didn't directly have to do with curing the Eschalian plague, and he was beginning to go stir crazy.  
“Alright then. I suppose I should start with the good news. We now definitely know how this disease is transmitted. The Ancient Archives were a little help, although strangely enough almost all of their entries on the plague have been deleted. The Genii were of some help, believe it or not-”  
“The Genii?”  
“They've been researching this plague, too. They hold the wraith responsible, and apparently they are working on a cure, but I wouldn't count on them getting anywhere fast.”  
John didn't either. But he understood the Genii suspecting the wraith.  
“So, how do we avoid getting this thing?”  
“Right. You'll need to come into direct contact with a carrier.”  
“So that means no more hazmat suits?”  
“Aye. As long as you don't touch an infected person's bodily fluids you should be fine. While you're here, do me a favour. Dr Keller needs these reports, if you could pop by, that'd be a great help.”  
John snatched the manila folder out of Beckett's hands, glad to have something to do.  
“Consider it done.”  
He was out of the door before Beckett could remind him to take it easy.

On his way back from the labs, he went to check up on Jeannie, who'd gotten off easy with a bandaid and a story to tell her daughter, about being attacked by wraith worshipping fanatics who had kidnapped fatally ill people to sacrifice them to said wraith. Maybe she'd have to edit that story a little.  
He found her in the mess hall, not reading what looked like Rodney's handwriting but watching over the top of the papers Todd and Rodney who sat crosslegged on the floor opposite Madison, being taught a patty cake song.  
“No, it goes: Miss Lu-cy had had a ba-by. No, you have to clap your hands here. Like this.”  
Madison practically climbed into Todd's lap as she put his hands in the right position. Next to them Rodney practiced the clapping for himself.  
“Okay, again. Miss Lu-cy had a ba-by. She called him Tiny Tim. She put him in the bath-tub. To see if he could swim. You did it wrong again!”  
“I apologise,” Todd said.  
Madison magnamiously forgave him, but made them start over from the beginning.  
John leaned against the table, waving a greeting at Jeannie who waved back but quickly turned her attention back to Todd. They watched him take on an increasingly disturbed expression as Madison kept singing a song about a baby possibly dying in a bathtub, obediently clapping as she'd taught him.  
“They're almost cute,” he said, not quite low enough for Todd not to hear. He got a wraith stink eye in return which used to be a lot more intimidating. Right then and there John could almost believe that Todd had nothing to do with the plague outbreak. How could he be, when at the same time he took his time to play with an eight year old human girl in one of the least dignified ways possible.  
“I know, right?” Jeannie said. “Todd's been with us since this morning. He's kept Maddie entertained while I've been catching up on my reading.”  
She raised Rodney's paper.  
“Good read?” John asked knowing that it was not.  
He'd tried, years ago, to muddle through Rodney's research papers, and given up quickly.  
Accordingly Jeannie laughed, which allowed Rodney a turn at the stink eye giving.  
“I've been putting it off for weeks. Figured why not now? I just got done with the embroidery I started ages ago, too. And Teyla's offered to teach me some of that Athosian stick fighting she does. I don't want to fight anyone, but it looks like a fun way to keep fit. They don't exactly have Zumba classes here. And since we're stuck here I've been getting a little restless.”  
“I hear you. Took the stairs on my way back from the lab just to get some exercise in.”  
Jeannie grinned but John noticed with a start that she was the only one. Rodney and Todd looked between them, the crease on Todd's face enough to cause John anxiety. When was the last time he'd seen Todd truly worried? Apart from that fight with the fanatics, but they'd been under attack then.  
“I think we should go see Dr Beckett,” Rodney said.

Beckett ran the tests twice before he told them. By then John had come to the same conclusion and, judging by her holding onto Rodney like a safety blanket, blinking hard to keep from crying, so had Jeannie.  
“I'm sorry,” Beckett said, test results in hand. “But I'm afraid you've been infected.”


	5. Chapter 5

In the space between Beckett's words and the rest of time, the world became inescapable molasses. Sitting next to him a thousand lightyears away, Jeannie swallowed a sob, trying and failing to keep her composure.   
He had let this happen, taken her onto another planet thinking that a suit of plastic was enough to protect her from the dangers. The distance between them too vast to bridge, all of eternity between him and the rest of this room, John turned to the only one he could still reach.   
The shadow in the doorframe, the bad omen of a thousand generations. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten off the bed, or how he'd crossed the room. The next thing he knew his hands were on Todd's collar, pulling him down to his level.  
“If you had something to do with this,” he hissed, threat in every syllable. “If you did this to Jeannie, so help me, there's not-”  
Todd did not push him away. He did not snarl or attack. He'd have expected, looked forward to it even, as an excuse to have a no holds barred brawl.   
Instead, ever so gently Todd covered John's hands in his and unwound them from his clothes.   
“I would not have done this, John Sheppard.”

For the second time in as many minutes the breath stuck in John's throat, as Todd's too real, too soft hands, just slightly cool to the touch, curled around his in a protective hold.   
They hadn't done this since – no, they had never done this. This was real, Todd's motives unknown but whatever had urged him to brush his thumb over the back of John's hand, he didn't do it for an audience or because he'd been asked to.  
John's expression clouded.  
“Stop pitying me,” he said and pulled away, hands burning with the absence of Todd's touch, turning around so he didn't have to look him in the eye.   
The others didn't look at him much different. Even Rodney, a crying Jeannie in his arms, had worry to spare. Beckett looked as if he would have gladly taken this disease on himself if he thought it would help.   
“Tell me you have an idea how to cure this thing,” John said, trying for levity and failing even to his own ears.  
“Unfortunately, no.”   
Was it John's imagination or did something pass between Beckett and Todd just then?  
“We're still in the early stages of research. However, there may be a treatment option-”  
“Treatment, great. Anything that works. What is it?”  
Todd stepped forward.  
“Me.”  
Beckett picked up before John could protest.  
“We believe the wraith were genetically engineered as a solution to this problem. We know they emerged as a species at approximately the same time as b. eschalia, and there is some evidence in the Ancient archives that the Ancients treated it by placing their hands on the victim's chest. We assumed they were talking about Ancient healing techniques, like the ones you encountered in that time bubble. Todd suggested it could have been a reference to the wraith feeding process instead.”  
Which would explain why the fanatics on that planet thought plague victims made for excellent wraith fruit baskets. Or why someone like Todd might want to spread the plague among the population. An unlimited food supply and people forced to seek out the wraith instead of run from them in order to survive.   
“It makes sense.”  
Jeannie, wiping away her tears with her sleeve, spoke up. She looked past John at Todd, not half as apprehensive as she should have been.  
“This plague creates life force, right?”  
“Well, something like that. The process is incredibly complex, what we think of as life force is actually-”  
“Beckett,” Rodney said.  
Beckett fell quiet.  
“And the wraith feed on life force, or whatever it is this plague is creating. Eventually our bodies can't cope with the excess energy and we die, but if a wraith were to take the cream off the top as it were ...”  
“The progress of the disease would be pushed back, the feeding would be nonlethal,” Rodney finished. “It would buy us more time at least.”  
A perfectly sensible plan, except that it was completely and utterly batshit insane.  
“You've got to be kidding me. No, absolutely not.”  
John looked between Beckett and Rodney, then at Jeannie. None of them shared his lack of enthusiasm.  
Todd seemed downright chipper.  
“I would gladly volunteer to test out your hypothesis,” he said, taking a step forward. John raised his hands before he remembered he didn't have his rifle with him. He didn't have proof, Woolsey didn't want to hear about his theories, but he was not going to go and play right into Todd's hands.  
“Awfully convenient, don't you think?”   
Todd tilted his head in question, but John didn't care if he wanted to play dumb. He put himself between Todd and Jeannie, close enough to the former that he could see his reflection in his eyes. In this state, with the energy from the plague filling him to the brim, he could have taken Todd without weapons. With the betrayal a persistent pressure in his chest, like a thorn stuck under the skin, he wanted to.  
“I'm not going to let a wraith, any wraith, suck the life out of me.”  
The remark had been meant to hurt and it did its job. Todd snarled, fists curling and uncurling, he broke eye contact first, for the first time surrendering in their little stand-offs.   
“You will die, John Sheppard,” he said, and John had to turn away to shake off the feeling that Todd might not be glad to see it happen.   
“All according to plan, I assume.”  
“This is not-”  
“I'll do it.”  
Jeannie came up to them, jittery with suppressed energy, tying a string she'd torn from her shirt into knots just to give her hands something to do. She pushed John aside like a piece of furniture, ignoring his protests.  
“If this is buying me time until Carson can find a cure, I volunteer.”

Five minutes later they were surrounded by a team of marines, one of whom had brought John his weapon. They were trained on Todd who pretended to be utterly oblivious in the way someone could only be when he knew the first couple of shots wouldn't do him any harm.  
“If she gets one grey hair from this,” John said and was summarily ignored.  
“Will it hurt?” Jeannie asked, apprehensive now that the reality of the situation sank in.   
“Not as long you're willing,” Todd said and laid his feeding hand over her collarbones.  
John flinched in sympathy, but Jeannie didn't make a sound beyond a startled little yelp when his cold hand touched her.   
Todd was more vocal, the purring and rumbling in his chest making John wonder not for the first time what feeding felt like to a wraith. It sounded ecstatic.   
John counted the seconds as Todd fed, longer than he did on other humans, but Jeannie showed no signs of aging or even discomfort. She bit her lip, a flush on her cheeks that John attributed to the strangeness of the situation until her knees buckled.   
He and the Marines moved in closer, but Todd was first. He caught her with his free hand, kept her in this half embrace as he took his fill.   
Finally he let up after almost an entire minute. He held onto Jeannie until she straightened up by herself, clearing her throat and looking anywhere but at him.  
“Oh,” she said. “Wow. I think I have to talk to my husband about this.”  
Todd did his little headtilt of confusion again. He was just about to open his mouth when Beckett came up to them, medical scanner in hand.  
“This looks promising,” he said as he scanned Jeannie up and down. “According to the scans the disease has been pushed back significantly. With two feedings a day, we may be able to keep it at bay indefinitely.”  
“Two feedings a day for every infected person, taking into account the rather rapid spread, that's ...”  
Rodney's lips moved as he tried to extrapolate a number. Todd solved the puzzle.  
“More of my kin than are alive today.”  
While Rodney still looked a little put out at being out-mathed by Todd, John tried not to show his relief.  
“So that's not a solution. What else- ugh.”  
A splitting pain shot through his head. He doubled over, clutched at his head, shaking off Jeannie's worried hand on his back.  
“I'm fine,” he said before anyone could ask, and took a few steps back because Todd had suddenly come closer. Or maybe he'd stumbled forward without noticing. Either way he'd rather have some distance between them now, now that Todd had gotten a taste for Earth humans.  
“You're not fine, John. Let Todd help you. He didn't hurt me, right?”  
“I'm fine,” he repeated through gritted teeth. The pain let up, a minor pulsing ache all that remained. He doubted that was the last of it.  
“You won't be for much longer,” Beckett said. “I understand your reluctance, but we have no other way of treating this illness. I'm working as fast as I can to find a cure but unless you let Todd feed on you, I'm afraid you won't be around that long.”  
“I said no.” The others looked at him as if they were considering ganging up on him and forcing Todd on him. They thought he was being unreasonable. On some level John knew he was. He compromised. “Look, I have to think about this. Give me a day.”  
“At the rate it's progressing, I'm giving you an hour. After that I'll talk to Woolsey.”  
And Woolsey had already told John to 'suck up' the situation with Todd. He would not be sympathetic to his argument that he'd rather die than give Todd the satisfaction of having outmaneuvered him.

John had meant to return to his quarters for his allotted hour of thinking time, but halfway there he started running, restlessness spurring him into senseless action. He took the stairs down to the piers, figured he could go around in less than an hour, then back to the clinic to face the music.   
Before long sweat stood on his forehead, his lungs working to get enough oxygen, but his muscles didn't burn, his body showed no hint of exhaustion. Worse, a couple of minutes ago he'd started feeling a lump on his back pressing uncomfortably against his belt. The second stage of the Eschalian plague, according to Beckett, when cells started mutating wildly to cope with the excess of energy. The third stage was death.   
This whole thing was insane. He didn't feel sick. There was no fever, no pain except the recurring headache, no weakness at all.   
He came to a halt at the edge of the pier, looking out at the rolling sea.   
The scent of the ocean in his nose, in his ears the waves lapping against metal, wind whipping at his jacket, it was almost peaceful. If he didn't let Todd feed on him, this would be the last time he'd see the ocean. Short of curing the disease completely, it didn't matter whether or not Todd had unleashed it, he'd win either way, with John dead or as his personal takeout dinner. He had no choice, not really, that's what made this whole thing so frustrating. 

Especially since Todd had been standing behind him for a minute or so.  
“Okay, okay, just give me a moment.”  
If Todd was surprised that John had noticed him coming, he didn't show it. He stood there perfectly content to wait another hour if that was what it took. He gave no indication, with word or gesture, that he knew what this was about, but John felt called out nonetheless.  
“I _want_ to believe you. But even you have to admit, this is exactly the kind of thing you'd do.”  
“I would never be this amateurish.”   
John huffed a laugh, even though nothing about this was funny. At some point within the last few hours Todd seemed to have forgotten what personal space was. He hovered close, as if prepared to catch John if he fell, or to feed on him while his guard was down. If he thought John would give himself up as a wraith snackbar this easily, he had another thing coming.  
“So what, we let you have this? I'm just supposed to let you win?”  
Todd started to move, then stopped when John flinched back. He stayed where he was, whole body taut with some unspoken need.   
“Cannot my victory be yours as well?”

John already took the breath needed to answer when he realised he didn't know how. He floundered, looked up at Todd who seemed to be brimming with the same energy that went through him, hands twitching at their sides in his desire to reach out.   
Because for some reason, he wanted to.   
With a basically unlimited food supply and as one of the first and only wraith who knew it was possible, he should be halfway across the galaxy by now, building the biggest wraith empire the galaxy had ever seen. But he was here, held back only by John's word, waiting for his permission.   
They had been here before, watching the waves break against their city. Back then John hadn't known what Todd wanted from him, couldn't have given it even if he did. Now he had nothing to give but his life into Todd's hands. Ironically he found that easier than talking about his feelings.  
“Do it,” he said.  
Todd didn't hesitate. He closed the distance between them, swept John up in an embrace, growling deep and loud enough to make him feel the vibration against his chest. His pupils were blown wide despite the bright sunlight, their bodies pressed against each other, as he dug his hand into his chest.

It still hurt. A sting of pain where the feeding organ broke skin, and a resistance as if his life force clung to his body. John cursed under his breath, remembered Todd had said something about being willing. He forced himself to relax, breathed in and out as deeply as he could.  
The pain vanished, Todd growled pleased, the life flowing between them freely now, unlike any feeding John had experienced before. This didn't tear his body apart from the inside, searching for any morsel of strength the wraith could seep from him. Heat pulsed through his body in waves from Todd's hand on outward, made his skin pull tight, shudders running down his back. As the excess energy left his body he felt himself relax for the first time in days, feeling loose and strangely detached from what was happening. He noticed the texture of Todd's clothes under his hands, the scent of Atlantis issued shampoo in his hair, the low rumbling reverberating in his own body across the bridge they had created. Far off there was the high of the wraith enzyme, a mild rush paling against the pure ecstasy of being fed on willingly. This was a football endgame, caramel popcorn, the highest point of a ferris wheel, sitting in an F-35 fighter jet breaking every barrier, pushing beyond his fear and common sense and testing just how far he could go.  
And then it was over, Todd's feeding hand gone from his chest, although he still held him, his strong arms all that kept John from kissing the ground.   
He released a breath he didn't know he was holding. His ears burned, his hands shook but Todd wasn't much better off. His lips shone as if he'd been licking them, cheeks a dark green. John was almost sure he hadn't looked like that after feeding on Jeannie, but right now John wasn't even completely sure what his own name was so he might be wrong.  
“Now I get what Jeannie meant by having to talk to Kaleb,” he said weakly.   
Todd made a soft questioning noise. John noticed he'd been absently petting Todd's arms and stopped, embarrassed.  
“Do you also need to speak to him?”  
John laughed, relief at being alive and the plague no longer pushing him into goalless action breaking down the tension, and something changed in Todd's face. 

Before he could ask what was up Todd leaned in and kissed him.  
John's hands curled into Todd's clothes on instinct, holding on for dear life, as Todd pulled at John's lip, sharp teeth just barely not breaking skin. Hands roamed down his sides and up his back, searching for a place to settle. His contented purring sent shivers down John's spine. He should push away, put an end to this, let Todd know he wasn't going to let himself be seduced into trusting him. Instead he opened his mouth, buried his hand in Todd's hair like he would never admit to miss doing. Their tongues touched just briefly, John feeling feverish against Todd's colder lips. He pushed back, let him feel his own teeth. Todd made a small helpless sound, pulled away without their touch breaking, pulling his lower lip in between his teeth, sucking and letting go to kiss him again, breathing hard as if he'd been fighting. John swallowed his own moans, scratched at Todd's spine just below his hairline, felt Todd shudder and sink into his arms, and did it again.  
He had never been kissed like this before. He had never kissed anyone else like this before. Had he even lived up until this moment, or spent his whole life in a trance, just waiting for this one moment?

If they hadn't been standing out in the open, well in view of the towers, things would have escalated. As it was John had to stop himself from slipping his hands underneath Todd's waistband, even if Todd seemed to have no problem with a little exhibitionism, as evidenced by him grabbing John's thigh to get him closer.  
John pulled back, gasping for breath, a faint memory of rational thoughts all that was left of his thinking brain. There had been something about betrayal. He shouldn't let his guard down. To his addled brain it didn't make sense, because right now he'd trust Todd to suck his cock and he had actual shark teeth in his mouth.  
Todd put him on his own two feet, looking just as disheveld as John felt, hair even more of a mess than usual. He didn't remember doing such a number on it. 

He made to say something when he noticed Todd's hands shaking.  
“Hey, is everything okay?”  
Todd noticed his look and hid his hands behind his back.  
“Do not worry,” he said and had lied better before.  
He was hiding something, and John knew what it was when he saw him wince.  
“You're in pain, aren't you? Can wraith get this plague?”  
Todd shook his head, then winced again when it appeared to cause him pain. He hesitated but since John wasn't about to let this be, he eventually gave in.  
“I cannot be certain, but I believe I am feeling the effects of overfeeding.”  
“You believe?”  
“It is not something my kin have experienced in my lifetime. Even during the last war we rationed.”  
In other words, starvation had become a fact of life to the wraith.   
Like burning alive, Todd had once said, and no end in sight. Until now. It did bring up another concern, though.  
“If this is affecting you this badly, will you be able to stick to that twice a day feeding schedule for Jeannie and me?”  
Todd's expression was answer enough.


	6. Chapter 6

John figured that with a potentially unlimited food supply, the only problem the wraith had now was getting too fat to fit into their fancy goth outfits.  
But, since they were part human, they managed just fine to create additional problems themselves.  
“Most wraith reject the idea of living with rather than ruling over your kind,” Todd said as a disappointingly small complement of wraith entered through the gate.  
“For the record, I still think we should have gone with the restraints,” John said, smiling innocently at Todd's frown deepening.  
Woolsey looked between them, then shook his head.  
“Noted,” he said. “Todd, keep your people in the gateroom except for the ones tasked to alleviate Mrs Miller's symptoms. Be advised that they will be under constant armed guard and each feeding will take place in the infirmary.”  
There were seven, all commanders, although wearing simple black coats rather than the elaborate getup Todd and other wraith John had seen wear. They stuck close together, trying to project confidence but markedly intimidated by the marines pointing weapons at them.   
“They like they're straight from wraith kindergarten,” John said. “Do they know how to eat without a straw?”  
Todd chuckled.   
They took the stairs down into the gateroom proper to greet the wraith. One of them peeled apart from the pack and did something John thought was a wraith salute of some kind, a bow more implied than executed, as sharp and precise as John saluted people who didn't fuck around.   
Todd did not reciprocate. Something passed between them, the expression on the young wraiths' faces changing rapidly throughout the telepathic conversation, Todd's remaining impassive.   
John gleaned that Todd demanded something the wraith weren't prepared for judging by their 'Are you fucking kidding me' faces.   
It was followed by a beat of nothing, then two of the wraith including the one who'd taken the lead sighed and threw their hands up, just barely not rolling their eyes.   
The one in the lead crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows expectantly, at which point Todd showed his first facial expression, the most subtle hint of a furrowed brow.   
The young wraith raised his hands in defense, meekly averting eye contact. The argument, such as it had been, was over.  
John was almost disappointed when Todd signaled the end of the conversation by turning to him.  
“These two will stay behind to care for Jeannie, the rest will follow you to the trial site. I will accompany you.”  
Like he'd done every moment since that first feeding the day before, like he expected John to change his mind about wanting to live if he let him out of his sight for a second. Todd had fed once more since then, the second experience even better than the first, althought thankfully less sexually charged, considering it had happened in the mess hall. John still couldn't help but flinch everytime he felt the feeding organ against his skin, but he started getting used to it and didn't know what to make of that. 

While the medical teams and marines got ready for offworld travel, he and Todd escorted the two young wraith to the infirmary where Jeannie waited. Todd lagged behind several times, had to catch up, head lowered and squinting. John patted his back.  
“You going to be okay?”  
Todd flinched, eyes going wide at John's touch as if he hadn't expected it. He gathered himself quickly enough, pulled himself up to his full height. The two young wraith regarded them with something John couldn't read, confusion or suspicion perhaps.   
“Dr Beckett is working on a cure,” Todd said which was as good an answer as any. Then again when John had grudgingly suggested he share his feeding duty with someone else, the way they'd do with Jeannie, he had reacted almost violently, refused to let any other wraith lay a hand on John.   
He didn't know much about hive politics, but that reaction proved Todd didn't trust his own people as much as he claimed. All the more reason to keep armed guards near the ones who were expected to feed on Jeannie.  
“What does it feel like, the whole overfeeding thing?” John asked as they filed into the elevator, gesticulating at Todd and the general area around him. The young wraiths' ears pricked up, although they still carefully avoided eye contact with either of them.  
“Dizzying,” Todd said. “Overwhelming. Your city is always too loud and bright-”  
One of the wraiths said something that sounded suspiciously like “I'll say”.  
“- But now I am blinded and deafened by it.”   
It sounded unpleasant. Getting a little nauseous and having to pop open a button after a large dinner didn't seem so bad by comparison.   
“Couldn't you do that, you know, Gift of Life thing with someone? Wouldn't be hard to find people wanting to get a few years back.”  
His suggestion provoked an immediate reaction John hadn't counted on. Even Todd looked scandalised. The young wraith were all but clutching their pearls. John felt oddly compelled to check if he still wore his trousers the way they were looking at him.  
“The Gift of Life is not for just anyone,” Todd explained slowly, as if he thought John was a bit simple. “Besides, Dr Keller fears it might cause a transmission of the plague. It matters not. I was assured your people will find a cure soon.”  
What would happen if they didn't John didn't want to think about, especially as they entered the infirmary and found Jeannie painting game cards with worrying efficiency. She saw them enter, look at the cards, then at them again.   
“It's for a game Madison invented,” she said, shrugging.   
Then she spotted the two wraith with them who had kept to the back until now, pushed into the infirmary itself only by the ring of marines surrounding them. They stepped foward, urged on by Todd's silent admonishment. One of them raised his hand to wave, then stumbled into his friend in shock when the marines raised their weapons.   
“Oh, ignore them,” Jeannie said. “We're all very grateful you're here. Me especially. I'm Jeannie. What do I call you?”  
The two wraith looked at each other. One of them shrugged, the other opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again in confused contemplation.   
John remembered what Todd had said once, that wraith names were telepathic impressions, entire concepts conveyed faster than the speed of light. Few of them had one to one translations into verbal language, and most wraith were loathe to part with approximations of their name.  
He stepped in.  
“Meet ... let's say Nicky. And ...” He looked the second wraith up and down, who wore dark makeup reminiscent of earth, circa the 1980s. “... and Alice.”  
“John,” Jeannie admonished, but the two wraith seemed relieved not to have to give their own names and accepted the ones John gave them. They approached Jeannie, listening to her apologise for John and ask repeated questions as to their wellbeing, which seemed to unnerve them more than anything.  
Under careful watch of their marine guard the one John had dubbed Alice fed on Jeannie, clumsier than Todd had. He needed several attempts to get his feeding slit into the right spot, and judging from Jeannie's face the experience wasn't as ecstatic as it had been with Todd. She twisted her mouth into a grimaced smile like his very first girlfriend had after their first time, and John didn't want to think about what that meant for his performance then.  
“Just how young are these guys?” John asked.   
Wraith queens grew up almost like humans, their drones came into the world as full adults. He had no idea where their commanders fell on that spectrum. Todd had spoken about his childhood before, but he never actually mentioned being little.  
Before Todd could answer, if indeed he would have, Woolsey called them into the gateroom, to depart to the trial site.

Todd's party of five wraith willing to engage in mutually beneficial feeding time with humans was paltry, but their own efforts hadn't yielded much more fruit.  
Arriving at the trial site near the same settlement they had once helped deal with earthquakes and who had occasion to be sympathetic towards at least one wraith, they were met with Dr Keller, her team of scientists, and seven humans in varying stages of the Eschalian plague.   
“Hey doc-”  
“No time,” Dr Keller said. “Quick, this way.”  
Dr Keller led them to the back of the camp where an eighth patient lay, almost obscured by blankets, a large growth on his jaw. He was obviously close to death, even though he was still avidly reading, putting his book down only when he heard them approaching. One of the wraith went to him, looking back at Todd who nodded, and fed.  
The change was immediate. The human man breathed a sigh as he finally got to relax, the restless energy dissipating. The wraith himself was wide-eyed, sinking into the feeding with something as close to relief as John had ever seen on a wraith. The others had looked apprehensive, now it turned to jealousy. Even the lump on the man's face seemed to shrivel up.  
“Can wraith suck cancer out of you?” John asked.  
It was Dr Keller who answered.  
“From what we can tell, the growths caused by _b. eschalia_ are not real tumours. They seem to be created by the body to burn off excess energy and are powered exclusively by the bacteria. If they are drawn from the victim, the cells die and are eventually reabsorbed into the blood stream.”  
“Huh.”   
John hadn't paid much mind to his own lump, only noticing now that it'd gotten smaller. He'd probably be a bad scientist.

After that first feeding the wraith spread out, feeding and tending to the sick. John made his rounds, knowing full well he couldn't keep an eye on every single one, but needing this for his own sanity. He didn't see anyone he recognised from last time, but plenty of them seemed to recognise Todd. His name fell more than once as they talked among each other. The word 'Genii' did too. Apparently they'd visited this world not long before, making some kind of deal with the mayor. John'd have to remember to talk to her about that once he was no longer infectious. Or, if their chances of finding a cure were as good as Beckett's perpetual frown made it look, get someone else to do it.  
At one cot, occupied by a mother and her child, he came to a halt.  
“Well, what's keeping you?” he said to the wraith who seemed reluctant to do his job. He snarled but didn't look John in the eye.  
“There is no need to be rude,” the mother of the child said. “It's only his second time feeding.”  
“I'm scared,” the kid added and John would have bet money that he heard the wraith mutter 'me too'.   
But he fed, first on the child, then the mother, and though he came away clutching his head and looking distinctly nauseous, he had a smile to spare for the child. Or what counted as a smile with wraith, with their shark teeth and all.  
John moved on, through the despairingly small group of people, towards Todd who was on the radio with his hive.  
“Find them. Hunt them down if necessary, I will not accept no for an answer.” Todd growled, put the radio down. John was pretty sure he hadn't made a sound, but Todd acknowledged him anyway with a curt nod.  
“What was that all about?”  
“Some of my hive have dropped out of contact, including my second in command. They do not think it wise to ally with Atlantis.”  
“What, Kenny?”  
Todd sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
“Yes. 'Kenny'. More wraith will come. Will you be able to convince your people to accept treatment?”  
“Once word spreads that people come back from this little exercise, sure. What's with these guys, anyway? They look a little green.”  
“... They are wraith.”  
John shook his head.  
“Figure of speech. I mean they're inexperienced.”  
Todd acknowledged his point with one of his put upon sighs that for all its alien inflection sounded so much like Rodney John was seriously reconsidering letting these two spend time together.  
“These are the youngest of my alliance's wraith. Because they have not yet proved themselves valuable, the queens don't prioritise their needs. Some of their brothers died before getting a chance to feed even once. They were the first to volunteer. They will not be the last.”  
Todd had become more insistent by the end, a hint of anger showing beneath the cracks of his composure. John wasn't good with this emotional stuff, but he figured he owed Todd some acknowledgment.  
“I'm sorry. Must be pretty bad, starving and all.”  
John cringed at himself, mentally berating himself for opening his mouth at all. Oddly, Todd's features softened.  
“Our fates will turn soon,” he said. 

For a moment it appeared as if that was all he had to say on the matter, the two of them watching wraith and humans interact, trepidation and suspicion mingling. Todd fiddled with his radio, this restlessness so uncharacteristic that John for half a second was sure they'd be ambushed by these wraiths' older brothers.   
Then he said: “There is something I must tell you, John Sheppard.”   
Another brief moment of hesitation. Dread crawled up John's spine.   
“I am responsible for the resurgence of this plague.”  
He knew it. He'd damn well knew it. All this time he'd known Todd was behind this. One of his schemes and it had backfired, just as it had when he stole the ZPMs for that cloning facility or when he created the super-hive.   
“Dammit, Todd!”  
He paced to burn off the urge to shake him until the whole truth fell out, pulling at his hair, a thousand plans and contingencies half-formed in his mind on how to salvage this mess. On how to protect Todd from the consequences once the rest of the expedition found out.   
John stopped, wondering where that had come from. He'd been the one to urge Woolsey to take Todd off the mission roster, the one to be frustrated at how much everyone else seemed to be trusting him. Now he had Todd's confession in his hands and he didn't want to use it.   
He'd _wanted_ Todd to be innocent, he realised, even as the old suspicion made its home where friendship was supposed to be. Wanted to be wrong about him, just once.  
Just like on the pier Todd leaned forward, obviously wanting to bridge the distance between them. Even with the plague rearing its head again, just hours since the last feeding, John felt too tired to argue. He waved at Todd to continue with his explanation.  
“When I began searching for the ancient wraith mentioned in the Lantean archives, I did not expect to find a live strain of the plague,” Todd said, picking up speed now that his immediate disembowelment was less likely. “I brought a sample onto my hive, to alter the bacteria's genetic makeup and enable a symbiotic relationship between wraith and our human feeding stock. Wraith from a rival faction followed me and stole another sample, bringing it to the outpost you attacked.”  
Indirectly reponsible then.   
He believed Todd's story. The Lantean diaries had fascinated him more than any other member of their expedition, seeking out clues about them outside the base was only natural. Wanting to use it, was also in character, but unleashing it without careful alterations was not.  
And John, if he'd been in Todd's place, wouldn't have told anyone about this either. They were too used to betraying one another to risk jeopardising something like this. He didn't like it, hated it in fact, but he got it.  
John sighed, looked up at the sky wondering how he'd gotten to this point.   
“Alright. We're going to have to tell Woolsey eventually. But ... not now.” Todd drew in a sharp breath. “You're going to hand over your ... Wait.”   
John held up a hand. As one all the wraith in the camp fell silent, urged by John's command transmitted telepathically through Todd, listening into the still air. John strained his ears, but he heard nothing. Not even bird song.

“Fall back!” Both he and Todd shouted at the same time.   
The team of marines covered the patients, joined by the young wraith, but it was too late. Genii soldiers burst from the foliage surrounding the camp, yelling and shooting. John ducked and dove behind a large boulder, Todd right behind him. The Genii swarmed the camp firing what looked like wraith stunners. One of the wraith threw himself between the mother and her child and went down. But he gave them time enough to start running.  
“Retreat! Back to the gate!”  
Todd joined his wraith in the defense, John urged the civilians along, radioing ahead to let Lorne and his team know they had civilians and hostiles inbound. The Genii converged on them from all directions, dozens of them, closing in.  
“Fall back, fall back!”  
The marines retreated, followed by the wraith. Out of five, only two were still standing. One was felled by a stunner, then another as he tried to pull his brother to safety and got hit, too. Todd ran to help the injured, John leaped forward, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back just in time to watch a barrage of stun blasts converge on the exact point where Todd had just stood.  
“Get back to the gate!” he shouted, pushing and pulling Todd along as they retreated.   
The gate came into sight, already dialed, Lorne ushering through the last of the civilians. Behind him one of the marines cried out in pain, but caught up, adrenaline masking the pain. John didn't look back, sped up as Todd finally began to pick up the pace and ran through the gate.

The civilians, Lorne's team, and most of his marines gathered in Atlantis' gate room. None of the young wraith had made it through.  
Todd snarled, swept away the paramedic who tried to take a look at him, pacing up and down.  
“We have to go back.”  
“There's an army of Genii hanging around if you hadn't noticed.”  
Todd whipped around, focused all his rage on John.  
“My kin were stunned, not killed. We _will_ go back for them.”  
John met his glare, refusing to back down.   
“That's a bad idea. We don't have the manpower to mount a counterattack. And I'm guessing you don't either.”  
“You owe this to me, John Sheppard.”  
“I don't owe you shit. Without you none of this would have happened, remember?”  
For a moment it looked as if Todd was going to attack him. He was poised to do it, hands curled into claws that could rip his throat clean out, and the fire in his eyes telling John that he wanted to.   
Swallowing hard, John forced himself to pretend he hadn't noticed the threat.  
“We'll debrief, then decide what we're going to do.”

Todd didn't stick around for the debrief. He went to his quarters, to arrange pickup and mount a rescue operation that could not possibly succeed. As few people and resources as Todd had left, it likely would be the only rescue if Woolsey's tone was any indication.   
“It's not that I don't value the contributions Todd has made to this expedition,” he said. “Or that I don't feel for his loss. But it's one thing to ally with one wraith, another entirely to engage in a risky mission to save a group of people with whom we're still at war.”  
Privately, John agreed. Sticking his neck out for a bunch of wraith, even Todd's wraith, was a magnitude different than being sort of friends with one of them.  
“Todd has aided us in relief efforts before,” Teyla said, frowning like she only did when she believed the expedition was about to make a fatal mistake. “He has proven his commitment to us, but we have not given him much in return.”  
“We'd have to commit a lot of resources,” Lorne interjected. “Intel suggests the Genii will have taken Todd's wraith to a camp on M34-22X. Our scouts have counted over a hundred guards. Whatever our personal feelings for the wraith, this is still an alliance of necessity. Isn't it?”

Wasn't it?   
Woolsey sent another team out to do some reconnaissance on that Genii compound, see how fucked they'd really be if they tried to storm that thing. From the intial reports, John didn't like their chances. With Todd's people to help, maybe, but even then they stood to lose a lot more than they stood to gain. Not even mentioning the fact that if they managed to liberate the wraith there, they'd likely be severely outnumbered by the prisoners alone.   
He rounded a corner and entered the infirmary. Dr Keller was just wrapping up her examination of her patients. According to her the young wraith had saved some lives before the Genii attacked.   
“Todd didn't look happy,” she said when John stopped for a chat, waiting for Beckett who was still finishing up in the back. “He came marching in here, dropped something off with Carson, then stormed off again. I don't want to be in his way right now.”  
“Aye, he was on the warpath alright.” Beckett came in, a wraith tablet computer in hand. “Don't think he's coming back either. Sergeant Zhao said he saw him empty his quarters.”  
“What?”  
John looked betweem them but Beckett and Keller weren't joking.  
“Maybe he thinks this rescue mission is going to take a while.”  
Or he had lost faith in Atlantis and its people. John groaned, carding his hand through his hair. Potentially sacrifice a decent chunk of Atlantis' people or say goodbye to Todd's resources forever, he hated making choices like this. A small voice whispered in the back of his head that he already had made the choice, on the planet when Todd confessed to his intentions.  
“What've you got there?” he asked to put the inevitable decision off.  
“Oh, right. Todd gave this to me just now. It's his research into the Eschalian plague. Did you know he was studying its effects on humans?”  
He did. And had chosen not to tell anyone to protect Todd.  
“He may have mentioned it. Can you do anything with it?”  
“Aye, it looks that way. So far I've been looking into curing the plague, and we've made some headway, but with this I may be able to alter it instead. Enable the wraith to feed nonlethally but still make the plague less aggressive. That's why I called you here. Your next feeding treatment is due right about now. Without Todd your condition is going to progress quickly. You should have a say in which path I pursue. So, what do you think, Colonel? Cure the plague or alter it?”  
Apparently it was one of those days. The universe wanted John to make a choice, and it wouldn't let him get out of it easy.   
Cure the plague and they'd continue the war against the wraith, including Todd. In the course of which the wraith might well gain the upper hand or destroy the humans of the Pegasus galaxy in a self-destructive bid to survive.   
Or alter it and give Todd an undeniable advantage against his brethren, practically guaranteeing that he would be ruling the roost soon. Todd had been a formidable enemy when he had twelve hives and a starvation problem. With all the galaxy's wraith falling over themselves to make him happy, he would be unstoppable. Even Atlantis wouldn't be able to stand against him.   
His victory would be all but assured.  
John looked up at Carson, all doubt gone.

Todd's hive was in the process of engaging its hyperdrive when John reached the gateroom.  
“Open a channel,” he said even as he sprinted up the stairs, hoping he'd get there before it was too late.   
“Colonel Sheppard, what-”  
John held up his hand as the technician nodded at him.  
“I don't want to hear an argument,” he said to Woolsey before he raised his voice.   
“Todd? You still there, buddy?”  
A video signal came up. Todd in full commander mode, looking distinctly unhappy.   
“Sheppard. You will not stop me.”  
“I'm not trying to. Just pump the brakes.”  
Todd was silent for a moment.   
“Does this mean ...?”  
“We're going to get your guys out of there,” John said, ignoring Woolsey indignantly gasping for air. “And I told Beckett to make your alterations on the plague. That way we both win.”  
Todd's lips split into a grin that had John hold onto the console, suddenly weak in the knees.  
“I will gladly share my victory with you, John Sheppard. Have your people ready within the hour.”


	7. Chapter 7

Night had fallen on the planet when they beamed down in Ronon's modified Asgard transporter. One moment the clearing was empty, the next a hundred people stood on it. Most of them were human, interspersed with about twenty wraith from Todd's hive, and ten Eschalian volunteers. Sheppard and Todd found themselves directly opposite each other. Todd's eyes seemed to glow in the low light of their flashlights, or perhaps that was the anticipation of getting back at the Genii for abducting his people. He was unexpectedly hot, all intense and angry like that, and John was prepared to go through a few mild panics to get used to that particular realisation.   
“Quit making eyes at each other and listen.”  
John cleared his throat, awkwardly facing Ronon.   
“We're about one klick away from the compound, count on guards from here on out-”  
“Hold on, hold on. _One klick_? What happened to us beaming right ontop of them?”  
Naturally it would be Rodney to complain about a brisk walk.  
“Some kind of interference,” Ronon said. “Short range signals should work but you'll need to be at least here before we can beam you out.”  
“More likely your people didn't install the Asgard systems properly,” Rodney muttered, but Todd, torn between showing up Rodney or Ronon, surprisingly took Ronon's side.  
“My hive has been experiencing issues as well. My scientists are currently in the process of writing an override to allow our ship to register our short-range communicators, but this will take some time.”  
“Can we get back on topic?”  
Todd bared his teeth but let Ronon continue.  
“Split into your groups, converge at the designated spot near the main gate. Flashlights stay off unless you're discovered, let the wraith take the lead, shoot them if they make a wrong move.”  
“Ronon.”  
“Fine. Shoot them only as a last resort. Fire team will wait at the south gate until Shadow Team gives the signal. You-” he pointed at the Eschalian volunteers, a ragtag bunch of combat trained people from various planets. “-keep to the sides, make a beeline for the cages. The wraith's intel says we should expect anywhere between fifty and seventy prisoners.”  
“They have been taken during the hunt,” Todd said. “And will likely require feeding. Once fed, they will be able to join the fighting, you each have a second weapon to enable them to do so.”  
“Everything clear? Then move out.”  
The main force made a beeline for the compound's main entrance, disappearing in the dark after only a few steps. Sheppard's team turned northeast, Todd in the lead, guiding them through the dense vegetation on a moonless night. They kept close together, eyes peeled to make out the silhouette of the person in front of them, ears straining to listen for any footsteps beyond their own.

Forty minutes later the Genii compound came into view. Guards with flashlights patrolled the top of the walls, little pinpoints of light in the dark. Floodlights had been erected at the top of each twenty meter wall, directed inwards.   
“They are not expecting outside intruders,” Todd said.   
“Probably more worried about their prisoners escaping. I hear they have problems with that.”  
John grinned sardonically, coaxing a low laugh out of Todd. He kept them moving, keeping to the treeline along the eastern wall.   
“It is indeed ironic that we should now fight our way into a Genii prison.”  
He made to say something else but was interrupted by the wind turning and bringing with it a terrible stench. Rodney gagged, covering his mouth with his hand.  
“What _is_ that?”  
John was too busy keeping his mouth shut to speculate. They got their answer anyway.   
They reached the secondary entry point the reconnaissance team had described, a large sewer grate funneling the compound's waste out. At first glance, and smell, it became clear that this was not simply the contents of the Genii latrines. A thick chemical stench hung over everything and beneath that rotting flesh and congealing blood. Most of it dark green. Large pieces swam in the sludge, the origin of which John didn't want to know. Todd apparently had drawn his own conclusions. He shook with suppressed rage, hands clenched around his weapon. John reached out, found his hand in the dark.  
“Hey, easy there. We'll get your people out of there.”  
“And kill every last Genii,” Todd promised gravely.  
The grate to the sewer pipes was locked. John turned on a small flashlight, shielding it with his hand to illuminate only the lock while Teyla got to work cracking it. The lifesigns detector didn't show anyone but them, and John kept a close eye on it to catch as much advance warning as possible if that changed.  
Teyla fiddled with the lock, doing something to it that John thought looked professional, but then again the last time he'd tried picking locks he'd been fourteen and in no way patient enough to stick with it. He looked back down at the lifesign's detector. Two more signals.  
“Better hurry it up, Teyla,” he said. From the speed and direction at which they were approaching, he figured it would be guards, patroling the perimeter. They could probably ambush and kill them before they could raise an alarm, but he'd rather not risk it.  
“Almost there,” Teyla said.   
John glancing between her and the two lifesigns, Todd next to him coiled tight as a spring, ready to leap at the slightest provocation. John would be itching for a fight, too, if he was standing in the byproducts of his people's torture. The lifesigns came closer, almost rounding the corner. Then they stopped, close enough they could hear them talking.  
“Ugh, pull up your scarf. I nearly throw up everytime we come round here.”  
“Let's get this over with.”  
“Done.”  
Teyla pulled open the grate door and they slipped in, pulling it shut behind them just as the two Genii guards came into view.  
No one dared move. If one of the guards shone their flashlight into the pipe, they'd be discovered. John felt Teyla beside him slowly reaching for her weapon.   
The guards hurried past the pipe without a second glance.

John breathed out and immediately regretted it as the caustic air settled on his teeth. He nodded at Todd to go ahead and to lead them deeper into the pipeworks, large enough to move in, but not to stand up comfortably. They crept forward in a half crouch, Todd ahead guiding them around alarms and booby traps, seeing better in the dim twilight of floodlights spilling in through the cracks.   
Before long they were at another grate above them, this one unlocked. They listened for people nearby and heard nothing. Todd pushed open the grate, then pulled himself up and out. Teyla followed, then John, then Rodney. He helped Rodney the last bit of the way, which was why he missed the lone researcher in the lab. Todd did not.

He snarled, John whipped around, and pulled Todd's weapon down.   
“Wait.”  
Todd tore his arm away, aimed at the researcher again.   
“Listen to your friend,” the Genii said. He had a device in his hand, thumb pressed down on the button. “The moment I let go of this, an alarm will go out through the whole facility.”  
“At which point you become disposable,” Todd said. The researcher seemed unperturbed.   
“Seems neither of us wants me to let go of this, then. Keep that wraith on a leash,” he said to John. “Unless you want him back in pieces. I've dissected many of his kind to understand their feeding process. I don't mind adding this one to the list.”  
Todd stepped forward, feeding hand raised. The Genii researcher held up the device as warning. John pulled Todd back, squeezed his arm in an unspoken promise.  
“Why study wraith feeding?” Rodney asked, incredulous and well aware of the danger, but still a scientist at heart.  
“To treat the plague of course. We have learned that wraith feeding temporarily eases the symptoms of the disease. We aim to learn how to replicate it.”  
John made a small step to the side. The Genii didn't appear to notice. Todd had moved as well, almost imperceptibly slow.   
“Ever thought of letting the wraith feed? It would be faster than whatever you're doing here. Less insane, too,” John said which, judging by Todd's brief smile, earned him several brownie points with him.  
“Don't be ridiculous.” Another step, almost within reach. “The wraiths' greatest weakness is their reliance on humans. Why should we cripple ourselves with this same weakness?”  
“I don't know, you might get something out of it. Like, I'm just naming an example here, you'd get to tag team your enemies.”  
John and Todd leapt forward at the same time. John curled his hand around the device, kept the button pressed down, while Todd snapped the Genii's neck. He slumped to the ground, dead, only his arm held aloft.   
From the metal table behind the Genii came a soft huff. They startled as the wraith they had thought dead moved.  
“I had ... hoped to do that myself,” he said.   
“Wait, is that Kenny?” Rodney said, pointing at the wraith, then at John.  
Todd was with him in a flash, helping him to sit upright. The wraith groaned, his wounds no longer healing.   
“You are weak. We have Eschalians at the gate, but you need to get up.”  
“He'll never make it that far. Let him feed on me.” Todd put himself between them, clearly unconvinced, so John continued: “Look, I'm due for another round anyway. Does it matter which wraith does it?”  
“It matters,” Todd said but relented. “Very well.”  
Either because of his injuries or due to some inherent disparity between wraith, being fed on by Kenny felt distinctly off. It didn't quite hurt, although there was that uncomfortable pull at the wound, but it lacked the sort of high John had been feeling with Todd.   
Even as he fed his wounds closed, his face regained its colour, although he too was more tense than Todd had been and he kept shooting glances at his commander like he wasn't really supposed to do this.  
Then it was over and Kenny got off the table ready to run a marathon, or murder insane Genii torturers.   
“Hold on,” Rodney said. “Look at this.”  
He'd spent the time leafing through the research the Genii had done, holding up one page at John, to whom the entire thing meant about as much as Zelenka's diary.  
“... yeah?” he said when Rodney didn't prove to be forthcoming.  
Rodney huffed.  
“This is the Genii's research into the Eschalian plague. With this Beckett could finish his work in no time.”  
“Destroy it.”  
Todd strode across the room, reached for the papers. Rodney held them out of reach, or tried to, since Todd's arms were longer. He snatched them out of Rodney's hands which resulted in a brief and rather underwhelming quarrel that would have been fun to watch if they weren't on a timetable. John stepped in.  
“Wait a second. This could be useful stuff.”  
“It was obtained through the torture and murder of my brethren.”  
Todd converged on him, close enough to be touching, capitalising on every inch he had on John.  
“I know that, but shouldn't something good come of this? The sooner Beckett finishes altering the plague, the sooner you get a steady food supply. At the rate it's going now, humans are dying faster than you can get to them.”  
He held Todd's stare, willed him to come to the right conclusion. Todd growled, a constant stream of noise that always reminded John of a very large animal warning you to back off.  
John did not and finally Todd relented.  
“Take it. Let's be done with this.”  
That John could wholeheartedly agree with.  
They looked around, found nothing else and set up by the door to the courtyard. John nodded at Todd.  
“Fire team,” he said into the radio. “Charge.”  
Mayhem broke out. Genii guards shouted, gunfire rattled the night, the floodlights flickered widely as they were reoriented. Finally someone thought to sound the alarm. John let go of the Genii researcher's device, the signal ignored.  
“Let's go. Don't stop for the wraith prisoners until we have that gate open.”

Nothing could have prepared John for the sight in the courtyard. While Genii fired down from atop the walls at Fire team amassing outside the main gate, the inner courtyard was filled with large cages, with as many as ten wraith crammed into each one. In the one closest to John were only three, and one wraith husk, cannibalised by the others. Their yellow eyes shone with desperation. He forced himself to keep going.   
“We'll be right there, just hold on!”  
Todd overtook him, sprinted across the courtyard, dodged gunfire as the first Genii figured out they had infiltrators to deal with.   
The main gate was locked by a keypad. Todd hooked some kind of wraith device into it, breaking the code as the rest of the team set up to give him cover. John shot in wide bursts designed to keep the Genii down, prevent them from taking potshots. One of them got by him, hiding in the glare of the floodlights.   
Todd cried out, buckling under the pain of a shot going directly into his back. He held himself upright for a few more seconds.  
The lock clicked open and then the main gates opened and Ronon's team spilled in. John did not look at how many bodies were left outside, but turned to Todd. He'd sunk to the ground, smelling of burning flesh and cloth. Flames licked at his body, smothered even now between him and the wall, but not fast enough.   
John took his hand and brought it up to his chest.  
“You'll heal faster while you feed.”  
“You have little else to give,” Todd implored, trying to pull his hand away. John held on.  
“You only need a little. Come on, I know you won't take too much.”  
For a split second Todd's lips parted, eyes widened. Then his expression turned to one of determination and he fed, taking just enough to weather the fire smothering. They helped each other to their feet, then made a beeline for the cages.  
Eschalians broke the locks even now, letting the weakest wraith in each bunch feed on them, then handing their weapons to the strongest. Ronon's teams made their way to the staircases leading up top, flushing Genii out of cover, while below in the courtyard they ducked the incoming fire. Ronon himself caught up with John at one of the cages.  
“Most of the wraith can't run, they're too weak and we have too few Eschalians. If we cover their retreat, we'll lose our people.”  
He was right. Even with the Eschalians too many wraith needed healing. The Genii converged on them, their initial surprise worn off.   
“Fuck,” he said, and again for good measure. “Fuck. Alright, cover them. We knew the risks going in-”  
“There is another solution,” Todd said. He took out the wraith device he'd used to unlock the gate. “My chief scientist has just finished the override. If I set this device to the correct frequency, my hive will be able to take aim at this facility.”  
“And blow us all up!”  
Todd snarled at Ronon.  
“The darts will come in to pick us up before that happens.”  
Ronon scoffed.  
“There's no way he won't pick up his people and leave us here. Over half of Atlantis' military force is here, he can't resist the opportunity.”  
Less than a day ago John would have agreed. But he'd made his choice.  
“Do it,” he said to Todd, who nodded and began recalibrating the device. “Get out in the open and prepare for transport!”

Their people scattered, some ontop of the walls, others running outside, foregoing cover to keep themselves open to the darts. John sincerely hoped he'd made the right call.   
Darts swept in, their telltale highpitched screaming for once a welcome noise. The first wave swept up most of the wraith prisoners but no humans. John's hands began to sweat. He'd chosen to trust Todd, wagered the lives of his people on that trust.   
The second wave came in, dodging Genii weapons, extending their beams, one of them coming right at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go


	8. Epilogue

“This is officially the craziest day of my life,” Rodney said as he sat down by the campfire, two hot cups of cocoa in hand. He pulled them out of reach when Jeannie reached for one. “What? Oh no, these are both for me. They're almost out of marshmallows, too.”  
Jeannie pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, but got up to get herself a cup. A few steps away another group of the expedition had set up a whole buffet of campfire classics to share with the Athosians and the group of Eschalians who had first volunteered for Beckett's treatment of the plague. Even a few wraith loitered nearby, pretending to be stately and unflappable. Only the glow from their fires and what sparse starlight there was illuminated their surroundings, illuminating them in sharp contrasts of warm light and absolute darkness. The flickering shadows made the wraith even more intimidating than usual. Monstrous shadow puppets taken form, if John hadn't spotted one of them discovering the mechanics behind a s'more which took the threat factor down a few levels.  
“You said something about crazy?” John said because the alternative would have been to argue with Rodney about the meaning of 'fair share'.  
“Right. Cadman and I were heading here when one of the wraith stopped us. He asked me what the difference between a yam and a potato was. I tell you, if a year ago someone'd told me this would happen, I'd ... well I'd probably believed them, since we've encountered time travel before. But still. Crazy, huh?”  
“What did you say? To answer the wraith's question.”  
Teyla dug her bare feet into the sand, using a stick to poke around in the fire for no other purpose than to watch the sparks fly. For the first time in years her shoulders weren't drawn tight, her mouth turned into a loose smile. The promise of an end to all cullings would do that, John figured.  
“That they're probably the same. I'm a real scientist, not a botanist. Cadman didn't know either, of course.”  
“You and Cadman?” Jeannie had come back with her cup of cocoa. No marshmallows. “Aren't you still angry with her over that video she took?”  
Rodney waved her concern away.  
“All in the past. She even apologised. Actually said I'm making good progress. Which, of course, I knew. It's all just science in the end-”  
A hand touched John's shoulder. It was Todd, looming over him like a benevolent gargoyle.  
“It is time,” he said.  
“Oh thank god. Rodney, everyone, if you'll excuse me.”  
Rodney made to object but John had already left, following Todd across the sand and away from the fires. 

Within moments they were immersed in darkness, only Todd's hair and skin visible under the pale starlight. John followed him closely, the sounds from the fires first at his back, then at his left, the ocean waves lapping on the shore to his right.  
M14-267 was paradisical, at least one week out of the year. The rest of the time it was plagued by violent storms and daytime temperatures exceeding sixty degrees Celsius.  
Now nothing of that could be felt but a faint warm breeze playing with John's hair as he and Todd climbed a small rock outcropping reaching into the ocean. The surface was slippery and John held onto Todd for balance until they'd reached the top, and a comfortable place to sit. Todd spread out his coat, looking oddly vulnerable in just his sleeveless shirt and trousers, feet as bare as Teyla's had been. Todd and Teyla were both smart people, John figured, and got rid of his own boots, seeing the immediate benefit of getting to stretch his toes a little.  
They sat like this for a while, sharing companionable silence. Behind them their people celebrated their strengthened bonds and Beckett's genius. No one had to be on guard, no danger threatened their moment of peace. The galaxy was big enough that another problem would present itself eventually, but today it was peaceful. Athosian songs arose amid the laughter of two species, at peace for the first time in living memory.  
A small part of John would never completely trust this peace. He was suspicious, both by nature and by occupation, and that wouldn't change overnight, if at all. But for tonight he could believe it, even enjoy what it had brought him.  
Eventually Todd spoke up.  
“I admit I did not expect you to agree to my plan against the Genii.”  
He kept his eyes on the horizon as he said it, where the ink black ocean met the coal dark sky.  
“Knew you wouldn't leave us hanging.”  
John picked up a pebble and threw it, hearing but not seeing it hit the water.  
“That made one of us.”  
John stopped short at that, slowly turning to look at Todd, who wore his best pokerface.  
“Are you saying you were actually thinking about leaving us behind?”  
Todd shrugged with one shoulder.  
“Eh.”  
He held his composure for all but three seconds before he started laughing, yelping when John punched him in the shoulder.  
“You ass, I almost believed you.”  
He kept laughing until the first shooting star sped across the sky.  
From the camp they heard 'oohs' and 'ahhs', less than a minute's walk and a whole world away.  
Todd sat, slackjawed and eyes wide, seeing nothing but hundreds of streaks of light falling from the sky. John saw them only because they mirrored in Todd's eyes, the heavens filled with fire a pale prize in comparison to the wonder on the old wraith's face.  
“I have wanted to witness an event like this since we escaped the Genii,” Todd said, still not tearing his eyes away from the display. “There never was time. My kin were starving, and fighting each other over the scraps that were left.”  
Atlantis and John had not made that fight easier. He didn't accept guilt, they were fighting for their survival as much as Todd was fighting for his, but he recognised that Todd's pain was real, and only now beginning to heal.  
“Beckett's administering the altered strain even now,” John said, knowing of no other way to cheer him up. “You guys are going to have plenty to eat, and we don't get turned into husks. That's a win-win situation in my book.”  
“Indeed.” They paused to follow a particularly dense shower of shooting stars, almost as bright as daylight, one shooting star barely distinguishable from the next. Todd breathed in deep, taken in by the sight, an almost religious reverence in the way he leaned forward and up, as if he thought he could reach out and touch them.  
Todd continued, speaking to the stars above more than anyone down on the planet.  
“With my right hand I attempted to feed my people, with my left I kept our enemies at bay, nearly failing at both. No more. For the first time in over ten thousand years, the wraith will know peace.”  
John swallowed hard, turned away to avoid the intensity Todd gave off, still too awkward to deal with strong emotions. He had nothing to say to that, anything he thought of falling short of what Todd deserved. This time he wasn't even expected to find the right answer, but he did anyway.  
Searching briefly in the dark, John reached out for Todd's hand, linking their fingers together. He squeezed, trying to put into this gesture everything he couldn't put into words. It was a speech's worth, too, and maybe one day he'd be capable of giving it.  
Todd squeezed back and had not let go of John's hand long after the last shooting star had fallen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this at the beginning of the fic, but I can't express how little this fic would have existed without you all commenting long after even I considered this series dead.  
> Every single time I'd get a comment on one of these fics, I'd think about continuing, sometimes going so far as to start on an outline, but then inevitably discarding it. Until your sheer kind persistence wore me down and I got back into writing, not just for this fandom, but in general. 
> 
> Now I have at least two more one-shots in mind for this series alone, and about half a dozen ideas for other SGA fic; one of which, centering on Lorne, just went up today, so check it out if you like.
> 
> Special thanks go Mavet, Rotblume, Eos, and Nep_Nep. Without your wonderful, lovely comments I would not have kept myself going to publish a chapter every day. Thank you so much!
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it.


End file.
